


Fever

by MinMinn



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Angst?, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Closure, Cocky Yuuri, Confession, Confused boys, Consent, Creampie, Deep Throating, Drugging, Dubious Consent, Eros Routine, Explicit Sexual Content, FINALLY SOME CONSENT, Frottage, Hair-pulling, I literally feel like I just gave birth, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Play, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Viktor, Resolution, Resolved Feelings, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Smut, Soft sex, Stalker, Switching, THERES STILL SOMEHOW CONSENT I PROMISE, Top!Yuuri, Yuuri is a complete tease, Yuuri is insatiable, blowjob, bottom!viktor, bottom!yuuri, jealous!Viktor, lust fever, rough blowjob, seductive yuuri, slight mind break?, top!Viktor, viktor is smitten, we stan a pair of idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-05-28 17:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19398667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinMinn/pseuds/MinMinn
Summary: He’d found the drug online – just a few quick dark web searches and he had what he wanted. It was a potent aphrodisiac, used mainly by those in more dubious industries. At first, Yuuri would feel slightly warm, the heat slowly building for a few hours before the full effects kicked in. By the time he peaked, his lust would be so insatiable he’d all but lapse into a seizure without release.“Yuuri, please let me get the medic,” Viktor again. Viktor. And Yuuri wished he’d kept focussed on the TV and his lewd imaginings because looking at Viktor now was dangerous. Wildly dangerous.The first thing his eyes brought into focus was Viktor’s mouth. Viktor’s open mouth. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, leaving a trail of moisture there like a kiss. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes shimmering. As he blinked Yuuri found himself completely caught in the motion of his eyelashes, sparkling in the blaring lights of the back rooms.Heavy lidded, pupils blown wide, tears on his lashes, mouth wrapped around my—ORYuuri gets drugged just before his Eros short program, and Viktor's the only one around to catch him





	1. Heat

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thoroughly enjoying writing my Music School AU, BUT, even I get overwhelmed by the slow, slow, _slow_ burn. Gotta get some sort of relief!
> 
> Also, don't worry, the OC is super minimal, just there to kind of get the "plot" going. This is pure Viktuuri smut~
> 
> So here's a little one-ish shot of an idea I had. It'll probably be a maximum of 3 chapters because if it's any longer I'll self implode. 
> 
> Also find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/scribblingmin?lang=en) to discuss prompts/ AU ideas/ talk about world building/ scream unanimously.

The man had been following Yuuri Katsuki’s career for years.

He had thought he’d found the love of his life – the one to lift him out of the darkness and into something soft and warm and light.

That was until he first saw Yuri Plisetsky.

It was almost too good to be true. Every competition the two competed in was like a double hit of some unthinkable drug, setting his veins alight time and time again. He’d spent the last GPF with his nose all but pressed up against the TV screen, jerking himself off furiously under the covers of his blanket, choking out sobs every time he came.

The man couldn’t even bring himself to count the number of times he’d come unravelled at the sight of Yuri Plisetsky’s flying sit spins, or Yuuri Katsuki’s seamless step sequences. He sent prayers of gratitude to every god known to man for the skill of the cameramen at last years’ final, who had managed to get a shot of Yuri Plisetsky’s absolutely flawless ass as he warmed up on the ice. The memory still sent shivers through every fibre of his being.

And something about watching the two compete – watching their rivalry come friendship, their unparalleled skill, their polar personalities - only made him come unravelled all the more.

So, when the man had watched Yuri Plisetsky ascend to the top of the podium with his beloved Yuuri at his side, he’d decided then and there that nothing else would do. This was the way it was meant to be – Yuri on top, triumphant and radiant, Yuuri just behind, looking up at him with love and hate, challenged to do better.

The man was attending this years’ GPF. He’d been saving for months, subsisting on ramen and cheap instant coffee, desperate to get a glimpse of the two men he adored with his entire soul.

And he knew that this year, Yuuri Katsuki simply could _not_ win. It had to be Plisetsky. He had to see that exchange again. He had to witness Yuuri’s sad smile and fiery eyes, had to drown in Yuri’s victory…

His flight left at the end of that week, and he had much to prepare.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to get into the back area of the stadium. Most of the ISU staff were open to bribery, and the man had come financially prepared for such scenarios. So, it didn’t take long for him to find himself skulking through the corridors and bathrooms of the skaters’ training areas, seeking out the two men who had drawn him so strongly from halfway across the globe.

He could feel the small vial he’d purchased burning a hole in his jacket pocket – he’d slipped it into the small breast-pocket in the lining, hoping beyond hope that nobody would search him there. All he had to do was find a way to slip it into Yuuri’s drink…

Just as he was trying to figure out exactly _how_ he would achieve that with so many people around him, the man all but ran into a soft but sturdy chest, clothed in a familiar black and blue jacket…

“Oh, I’m sorry,” a heavily accented voice rang out and the man could hear it – he could _hear it_ – but it was like sound through water. And at the same time, it was like the only sound he _could_ hear. His entire world narrowed to the pure symphony of sound assaulting him…

It took everything within him to compose himself and speak.

“No, please. It was my fault Mr. Katsuki,” and he flashed his best smile – the one he used for job interviews and police officers.

Because there, standing next to him, slightly shorter, hair slicked back, eyes dusky with make-up, was Yuuri Katsuki.

A quick glance down showed an almost empty water bottle in his hands and the man felt his pulse quicken.

Yuuri seemed to be about to leave, offering the man a kind smile by way of another apology. Just before he could, the man reached out with a gentle grip – gentle, _gentle,_ don’t scare him – and another smile.

“Would you like me to find you another?” and he gestured to the bottle, cocking his head ever so slightly.

Yuuri blinked and seemed slightly startled, the man’s mind racing as he felt his heart lodge in his throat. Was that too forward? Could Yuuri smell the danger on him already? Was he going to be caught before he’d even had his fun?

But then Yuuri was smiling again and everything was right with the world.

“That’s so kind of you, thank you.”

The man’s control was tested once again as he tried to slow the speed of his walking – tried to stop himself from breaking into a full-blown sprint down the corridors towards where the vending machines were. He bought a bottle – the smallest one he could find to ensure the whole of the drug was consumed at once, and one without any plastic covering the cap – and slipped into the bathrooms.

He’d found the drug online – just a few quick dark web searches and he had what he wanted. It was a potent aphrodisiac, used mainly by those in the BDSM industry. At first, Yuuri would feel slightly warm, the heat slowly building for a few hours before the full effects kicked in. By the time he peaked, his lust would be so insatiable he’d all but lapse into a seizure without release.

The man smirked as he watched the powder drift and dissolve in the water as he tipped it in. If Yuuri had the drug now, he’d be just about peaking in time for his short program. If he was too consumed with lust, it would be almost impossible for him to skate at his best, even if his program was based around sexual love. The man knew there were probably better ways to get what he wanted – to sabotage Yuuri’s program just enough to place him under Yuri Plisetsky – but this route seemed far too tempting. He knew he’d get the best rush out of knowing he’d unravelled Yuuri just as much as Yuuri had unravelled him.

Swilling the bottle quickly, holding it up to check there was no trace of the powder showing through the clear liquid, the man left to find Yuuri and seal his fate.

* * *

There was one more skater to perform before Yuuri’s short program, and he felt like he was on fire.

He’d already taken his jacket off, opting to walk through the halls in his costume much to Viktor’s horror. Try as he might to care about skating etiquette and the importance of keeping his muscles warm, he couldn’t help it. His mind was completely clouded by the strange sensations rippling across his skin and simmering low in his abdomen. Not to mention he was sweating buckets – it felt like he’d already performed, he was so out of breath.

“Are you sure you’re okay to skate, Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice was gentle, tinged with concern as he sat next to him in the training room. Yuuri tried not to focus too much on what the sound of Viktor’s voice did to his heart rate.

“I’m fine,” he all but gasped, wiping the sweat from his brow and staring daggers at the TV in front of them. He _had_ to be fine. He wasn’t going to give up all of Viktor’s hard work just because of some strange fever. Once he was out on the ice, he’d be fine. It would all be fine…

Viktor touched Yuuri’s shoulder, leaning in and bringing his face close, and it was like being struck by lightning. Yuuri suddenly found he could only breathe through his mouth, panting and gasping as the heat surging through his body trebled, the churning in his stomach suddenly rushing lower, gripping and twisting between his legs like fire.

“Should we find the medic?” Viktor was speaking, but Yuuri could hardly hear him over the rush in his ears. The searing heat in his veins. He could feel Viktor’s touch on his shoulder like a brand, all of his senses honing in on it as if he’d been physically burnt. With what little control he had over his composure, Yuuri attempted to shrug out of Viktor’s touch, shaking his head and offering a weak smile in response. Viktor’s hand fell away, face indecipherable, but Yuuri hardly had time to worry about it as he felt the rush in his lungs as he regained the ability to breathe again.

He tried to focus on the screen in front of them instead – anything to distract his brain from the thoughts that suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. Yurio was on before him, performing his short program – Agape – and performing it well.

 _Quite_ well.

Yuuri should have been used to seeing the other man perform by now. Should have been used to the way the costume hugged his figure. The way his skin shone through the see-through fabric like pearls. The way his brow creased and his fingers twisted and his hair shimmered…

“Yuuri…?” Viktor. Viktor’s voice. Yuuri couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, but he could tell from Viktor’s voice that he was concerned. Viktor was concerned. Concerned about _him_. Of course, he was, Yuuri thought, trying to sift through all of the wild emotions broiling in his mind. He was worried because Yuuri looked like he was about to completely break down right before one of the most important performances of his career. He was doubled over in his chair, clutching at his sides and gasping for breath like he was drowning. And he _was_ drowning, for all intents and purposes. Drowning in the foreign thoughts of Yurio’s lithe body underneath that thin costume. They were like arrows piercing his mind from some unknown origin – thoughts he’d never had before, firing like bullets across his consciousness. Yurio’s smooth skin. Slim waist. The curve of his ass. Fantasies. _What would it feel like to skim my fingers across his skin, to touch the sensitive part of his thighs_ —

“Yuuri, please let me get the medic,” Viktor again. Viktor. And Yuuri wished he’d kept focussed on the TV and his lewd imaginings because looking at Viktor now was dangerous. _Wildly_ dangerous.

The first thing his eyes brought into focus was Viktor’s mouth. Viktor’s _open_ mouth. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, leaving a trail of moisture there like a kiss. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes shimmering. As he blinked Yuuri found himself completely caught in the motion of his eyelashes, sparkling in the blaring lights of the back rooms.

_Heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide, tears on his lashes, mouth wrapped around my—_

The sound of applause through the walls shocked him back to reality and he glanced toward the noise. Yurio had finished, standing gasping for air and slick with sweat on the TV as he gestured his thanks to the crowds. Yuuri clutched at his chest.

He was up next.

“Yuuri, please,” Viktor was begging him, his voice cracking, and all Yuuri could think of was how he’d look on his knees, his perfect hair fisted in Yuuri’s hands, eyes glistening with tears as he begged him… words choked around his cock…

“G-God,” Yuuri gasped, tearing his eyes away from Viktor and boring holes into the floor. What was _happening_ to him? His mind was spinning out of control. This was the worst fever he’d ever had. He couldn’t skate like this. Could he skate like this?

Viktor was still beside him, the sensation of his proximity radiating across to Yuuri like some kind of electric field.

He had to get away from him.

He had to cool down.

For the first time in his life, Yuuri felt like competing was the only answer to his mounting panic attack.

Standing took a herculean amount of effort, his knees already weak as the sensation in his abdomen flurried into a blazing inferno. His skin felt like it was melting, the Eros costume he was so used to by now suddenly feeling all too tight. Constricting. He wanted nothing more than to tear it to shreds and feel the cool air on his skin. And Viktor was speaking. Yelling, even. He was angry. Angry about something … Yuuri couldn’t even remember. He couldn’t even think beyond the red tinged tunnel vision that was gripping his mind in a vice.

And suddenly his guarded skates were digging into the floor as he made his way to the rink. Fast. As fast as his shivering legs would carry him. Everything was building up to an almost painful crescendo – every nerve singing for some kind of release. The release that was forefront in his mind was impossible right now, and he felt an aching surge of guilt as he tried in vain not to imagine it. But the more he tried, the more vivid the fantasy became.

_Viktor. On his knees, eyes glistening with tears, choking on my cock and begging. The soft velvet of his throat. The bruises on his wrists peeking past tight ribbons, tied together, fingers gripping desperately. Hair mussed and dripping with sweat. The surge of his muscles as he arches, abdomen… thighs … biceps… cock bobbing as he sucks. Swallows…._

Yuuri could feel tears stinging his eyes. He didn’t want to imagine it ( _he wanted to imagine it_ ) – it was too close to some kind of sacrilege. And every fibre of his being was singing out that he should _make the fantasy a reality._ But Viktor didn’t even know that Yuuri liked him, let alone reciprocate the sentiment. Yuuri wasn’t even sure the other man was gay, though he had his suspicions. It was unthinkable. Inexcusable. He couldn’t, in any world, act out the absolutely obscene thoughts racing through his mind, as much as his body was desperate to.

He’d have to find some kind of relief on the ice, instead.

They made their way into the centre of the stadium, Viktor still trailing behind as he desperately tried to get Yuuri’s attention. Yuuri ignored him. He’d forced himself to hone his attention, fixating on one spot on the ice that was rapidly coming closer as he walked with purpose. He forced his lungs to accept air, forced his legs to move, clenching his fists and barrelling through the crowds. A sound made him glance up, and he could see himself on the screens in the stadium as the crowds screamed and cheered. His eyes were dark, pupils blown impossibly wide, brow furrowed as he stared. He could also see the high colour on his cheeks, though thankfully the blaring lights drowned most of it out.

It was like looking at a different person.

The crowds around him seemed to agree, because as soon as he stepped further into the light the stadium all but exploded with noise. He could see some of the fans, with signs and flowers and stuffed toys, straining in their seats and screaming his name. It floored him. It took his breath away.

It turned him on.

Oh _God_ did it turn him on. He was grateful that the costume he wore was padded enough that no one would be able to see just how turned on he really was. It was almost painful, his heart thrumming out a rapid beat like a bird in a cage, sending the sensation through his veins and pooling hot and heavy in his groin. He was worried he wouldn’t be able to skate before, now he knew it would be all but impossible.

Viktor was still desperately trying to get his attention, yelling above the crowds and reaching for him. Yuuri felt his fingers brush the fabric of his shoulder and flinched as the heat spiked to an unbearable high. The touch was all-consuming, his mind feverishly trying to keep up as it raced through all the possibilities in that single touch. Too much. _Too much._

He turned back to Viktor, knowing full well that he’d try and touch him again and he couldn’t – he _couldn’t –_ let that happen. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaping on him right then and there, like some kind of animal, tearing him to shreds in front of _millions_ …

Viktor reached his hand out again, eyes hopelessly worried, brow creased…

And Yuuri slapped his hand away.

The gasp from the crowd was unmistakeable, but in that moment all Yuuri could do was breathe. Close his eyes. Turn back toward the ice.

If he couldn’t have Viktor then and there, he’d take him on the ice instead.

* * *

When the scores came in, the man knew he’d made a mistake.

They were high. Higher than Yuuri had ever received. And the painful boner in his pants only served to confirm just how well Yuuri had skated.

The drugs had had the opposite effect. Or rather, the man thought bitterly, they had worked _exactly_ as intended. Yuuri’s routine was simply oozing sex appeal. From the second he’d stepped out into the arena to the second he’d left, Yuuri’s entire being was possessed with some sort of Eros-incarnate god. Every movement was like a lover’s writhing embrace – lithe, flowing, passionate, _desperate_.

And the massive screens across the stadium agreed with him. Wholeheartedly. Plastered across each one was a close up of Yuuri’s face as he’d begun his routine. The man watched on, mouth slightly open in delighted horror as the replay rolled. Yuuri’s sweat-slicked face filled the screen, with that tell-tale high flush on his cheeks, eyes impossibly dark and staring blackly across the rink, heavy-lidded as he slipped his sinful tongue out to lick his lips, head arcing back ever so slightly like he was … like he…

The man left the building, not even bothering to stay for the rest of the skaters’ routines or the award ceremony. He knew the results. He knew the fruits of his labour. He had to get on a plane and get back home to his cardboard cut-out of Yuuri and sordid assortment of toys before he exploded.

He wasn’t one to ever act on his desires to the fullest – he couldn’t imagine actually touching Yuuri or being with him in reality, that was a step too far. Toying with him ever so slightly and trying to sabotage his short program was the furthest he’d ever go – and he vowed never to do anything like it again, no matter how much he hated ( _loved)_ the results. He’d have to hope Yuri Plisetsky would do well enough in the free skate to grant him his true desire, though he suddenly found he wasn’t as caught up with the fantasy as he’d once been. His thoughts were elsewhere now.

Because he’d discovered, as he was filtering through his pockets, that he’d actually double dosed Yuuri’s drink earlier. The effects could last all night, if not days.

 _To whoever beds Yuuri tonight, I wish you luck,_ he mused as he shrugged on his coat and left for the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CH2 out tomorrow~ The porn begins~


	2. Helpless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone knows, this is dubious consent. 100%. Please be warned if this is not your thing.
> 
> Yes, my boys want to bone each other like animals. Yes, they adore each other beyond reason. But Yuuri's so drugged off his mind and Eros in the extreme that it's just a fuckin Mess™ 
> 
> ANYWAY ENJOY

Viktor was coming undone.

No matter how hard he’d tried, Yuuri had dismissed him at every opportunity. Viktor had rushed up to him as soon as he’d finished his short program – desperate to hold him, desperate to tell him how _proud_ he was – only to find himself on the receiving end of a bitter glare, wide-eyed and incredulous. It was one of the first times Viktor had ever felt small – small and insignificant. Standing there before Yuuri with his arms outstretched, rejected so wholly and completely… It made Viktor’s chest feel impossibly tight.

It was like just the _sight_ of Viktor disgusted Yuuri. Repulsed him to the point where he wouldn’t even let Viktor touch him. And Viktor knew he was no genius when it came to social nuances, but even _he_ could tell from that gesture alone that Yuuri despised him with every fibre of his being. Where before he could affectionately wrap his arm around Yuuri’s slender shoulders, or grip his hand in his own and run his thumb along his knuckles… now it was like an invisible chasm had opened between them, and all contact had suddenly become forbidden in every sense of the word.

And Viktor knew it must have something to do with Yuuri’s fever.

It had grown worse after his short program, causing sweat to visibly bead on his skin and run down the sides of his face.

Even the taxi driver seemed to pick up on Yuuri’s desperate state, casting worried glances back through the rear-view mirror at the pair of them sat in the back seat. Yuuri was visibly crushing himself against the door of the cab, desperate to be as far away from Viktor as possible, whilst Viktor sat, hopelessly despondent, leaning away and fiddling with the hem of his jacket as he watched after him with concern.

Viktor’s instinct was to try and reach out again – even if it were just to make sure Yuuri knew he was _here._ That he _wanted…_

But what _did_ he want?

Yuuri’s performance had shocked him to the core, that much was certain. He still couldn’t quite get the images out of his brain – every gesture, every flourish sending him into a frenzy. All that Viktor could think, utterly entranced by Yuuri’s routine, was how much he _wanted_ him.

It was everything he’d hoped for – everything he’d wanted to coax out of Yuuri despite his timidity and plaguing self-doubt. He _knew_ Yuuri held that power within him – it was as clear as day behind the glasses and overly baggy clothes. He had a brimming self-confidence that could have the world at his feet if only he’d let himself come apart…

And he _had_ come apart. _Boy_ had he come apart.

It was everything Viktor had hoped for, and more.

So why couldn’t he _tell him_?

They’d worked so hard to find that Eros – that sexual love – that Viktor would be a fool to deny wasn’t the result of his own desires. He’d wanted Yuuri from the first – that first heavy-lidded gaze at the banquet all those years ago, when he’d felt his heart stutter to life after so long in bitter stillness. When Yuuri had draped himself across Viktor’s shoulders, eyes glimmering with liquor fuelled laziness and something more. _Something more._ The something more that Viktor had just witnessed plastered across every screen and reflected back in every fan’s shocked expression at the stadium not moments before.

So, now that Yuuri had mastered it – had surpassed all of his expectations – Viktor found that he was proud. Proud beyond belief.

But he was also furious.

Because it drove Viktor insane. The routine was perfect and something was _wrong._ Yuuri wasn’t confident he was … consumed. Possessed. And the eyes of millions were on him. On _his_ Yuuri. He knew that they were all undressing him as he flew across the ice, all lapping up the cameraman’s expert angles and close-ups, all waiting with bated breath as he jumped and looped and seduced them all like eroticism incarnate. The way the light played across his skin, sweat glistening, blush feverish. The flash of liquid reflecting off his lips as his tongue licked and explored. The pupils blown wide. The lashes framing them perfectly, like some dark curtain into Hell. Not to mention the seductive curve of his hips, the power in his thighs…

It was like the most discreet and sordid of displays, fit only to be seen in the quiet of a lovers’ bedroom.

Viktor fisted his hands in the tops of his pants, resting them on his knees and staring out at the lights whirling past through the window. He shouldn’t be this angry. He _couldn’t_ be _._ No matter how much he adored Yuuri – how much he’d desired every part of him for all those months – it wasn’t Viktor’s place to feel so possessive. He should be _proud_ that Yuuri could seduce the world.

But _something was wrong._

Viktor glanced up as the cab slowed, drifting out of his thoughts slowly. They were coming closer to their hotel, and Viktor distantly wondered with a stab of fear just how they were going to share a room. Together. Beds all but touching and nowhere to run.

How on earth was he going to survive with _this_ Yuuri? This complete demon of desire? Because – and Viktor found he couldn’t help glancing back at Yuuri, despite it all – no matter what he was doing, he seemed to ooze sexuality from every pore. Even as he crushed himself against the car door, breathing heavily and staring daggers out onto the streets passing by, Yuuri was overwhelmingly sexy. His hips were rolling infinitesimally as he sat awkwardly on the car seat, legs twisting as he rocked his feet up and down – now _en pointe_ now flat on his soles. It was mesmerising. Painful. Viktor’s mind reeled with the possibilities, spiralling down a rabbit hole of skin and lips and eyes…

He only realised he’d been leaning closer when Yuuri turned to glare at him, flinching from the proximity, eyes full of fear and disbelief. All the confirmation he needed.

Yuuri hated him.

Every time he’d tried to reach out to Yuuri before – tried to touch him and make him _understand_ just how proud he was – he’d received rejection. _Decided_ rejection. Even in the kiss and cry, where Yuuri was usually overcome with emotion, all he’d received were venomous stares. Slaps to his hand. Fearful eyes set in a flushed face.

Yuuri hated him.

By the time they reached the hotel, walking through the wide foyer, riding the elevator together in bitter silence, Viktor was convinced they’d have to sleep in separate rooms. Every time Viktor managed to catch a glimpse of Yuuri through the elevator mirror, Yuuri looked like he was ready to tear Viktor apart. His slicked-back hair, still styled as it was during his routine, had begun to fall apart, strands sticking up and coming loose from the number of times Yuuri had run his hands through them. The makeup around his eyes was slightly smudged, hands darting up to wipe at them like he was on the verge of tears. The most alarming part was that he was shaking. _Visibly_ shaking. Almost like he was cold, only Viktor could tell from his heaving breaths and flushed cheeks he was anything but.

Viktor wondered, distantly, if his worrying about Yuuri had made him angry. The other man was clearly ill, and though it didn’t seem to have any bearing on his skill on the ice, Viktor was desperately worried all the same. Even the medics and ISU staff around them had asked questions – Yuuri ignoring them completely and Viktor being left to wave them off with a strained smile. Something was wrong, but Yuuri didn’t want help.

Viktor tried to compute exactly what that meant…

Before he could even attempt to follow through with the thought, the elevator slowed and the doors opened.

He didn’t dare glance back to Yuuri. He knew full well by now the kind of reaction he’d receive. Yuuri hated him. Yuuri didn’t want his help.

So, he began moving out into the hall instead, eyes trained forward, trying to fight the strange sensation of being on the verge of tears…

There was a small tug on the hem of his jacket.

He spun around almost immediately, every muscle tense and his heart thrumming in his throat. His eyes darted to Yuuri’s face and he felt himself prepare for another rejection, or worse, some kind of confrontation. He had no idea how to handle other people’s emotions. No inkling as to what words to use or how he should act.

But Yuuri was holding his sleeve and looking up at him, and his eyes were…

“V—Viktor…”

Viktor’s throat all but closed as he felt his pulse quicken furiously. Yuuri was leaning against the back mirror, almost doubled over in what looked like some kind of pain. He had an arm looped across his abdomen, clutching at the fabric there sporadically like he was trying to keep something contained. And Yuuri’s mouth was open, breath coming in short, desperate gasps. If the hotel weren’t so deathly quiet, Viktor would have doubted Yuuri had even called his name at all. His voice was so strained it barely came out as a whisper.

But he was gazing up at him, hand still clutching at the fabric of his jacket like some kind of lifeline, lips working to try and speak…

And through the strands of hair and fluttering lashes, Viktor could see him. Could see his deep brown eyes, with the black pupils blown wide. Could almost feel himself getting lost in them…

“Yuuri…” he whispered, automatically stepping closer though everything in him screamed at him to run. Something was wrong, something was _wrong_.

The fever that had taken hold of him was so high that even Yuuri’s throat was flushed. Viktor wanted to speak, but he suddenly felt the words leave him completely as he glanced towards Yuuri’s Adam's apple. He couldn’t tear his eyes away as it bobbed mesmerizingly, as he watched Yuuri swallow, thick and heavy, mouth working as he gasped, the sound liquid and loud, ringing in his ears ...

“Viktor… please,” and his voice was all but broken with desperation. Rasping. Impossibly deep and sending infuriating thrills through Viktor’s veins.

Because Yuuri looked _wanton_. He looked like he was falling apart. He looked …

“P—please…” his voice was barely there, and now both hands were fisting themselves into the fabric of Viktor’s jacket, tugging lightly. _Begging._

Viktor could feel his mind snap as he watched those hands. As he saw them knead and struggle. Pale and small and weak...

His arms moved of their own accord, one threading its way around the backs of Yuuri’s knees and the other curving to fit his waist. He lifted him with ease, distantly relishing the way that Yuuri instantly melted into Viktor’s chest like he’d been _waiting_ for it. He could feel the intense heat radiating off of Yuuri’s body, so strong that Viktor could feel himself begin to sweat as he made his way down the hall towards their room.

Something was wrong. Something was so, _so_ wrong. But it was almost impossible to mistake the look Yuuri had given him – pained, desperate, _longing._ And yet Viktor couldn’t quite bring himself to believe it. Couldn’t accept that Yuuri was as consumed with lust as he was. Because Viktor was Viktor and Yuuri was Yuuri. What could he possibly hope would happen when Yuuri was perfection and he was just ... him.

But now there were lips at his throat.

Viktor wondered if it were possible for human brains to short circuit.

There were lips at his throat … and _teeth._

Yuuri had craned his head up, squirming in Viktor’s grasp to try and get a better angle, one hand shakily tracing a fiery trail along the length of his neck, up into the short hairs at the base of Viktor’s skull, toying with the strands. Yuuri was _kissing his neck._ Gently, messily, all tongue and teeth and fumbling lips. Mouthing and lapping at Viktor’s skin. Sucking. _Biting._

Viktor gasped with every touch, feet faltering ever so slightly as his body surged. He could feel an insatiable need – heavy and dark – thicken and tighten in his abdomen, rushing lower and lower until he could feel himself growing hard against the fabric of his pants. Embarrassingly hard. Because Yuuri was locked onto his pulse point now, sucking and biting and, oh. _Oh._ He was fisting his hand in Viktor’s hair, dragging himself higher and pressing a not-so-gentle kiss into the underside of his jaw. It was all Viktor could do to keep his grip on the smaller man as he all but sprinted to their room.

“Viktor…” Yuuri moaned, breath hot, huffing along the skin of Viktor’s jaw. He tried to hold Yuuri with one arm as he desperately reached for the key card to their room, mind lapsing into Russian as he swore, failing abysmally and all but dropping his precious cargo to the floor. Luckily, Yuuri managed to catch himself, leaning back against the wall and using Viktor’s arms to keep his balance. The motion dragged them closer, Viktor’s tie suddenly in Yuuri’s grip. And Yuuri was writhing now, his entire face and throat flushed a deep crimson, mouth open and panting, tongue lazily trying to keep itself in place as he gasped for air. Viktor’s own mouth fell open instinctively, dipping lower as Yuuri dragged him, and Viktor could see just how swollen his lips were already, the corresponding mark throbbing on his throat where Yuuri had… Yuuri had…

Somehow, despite the insanity threatening to take Viktor’s mind completely, he managed to keep his grip on the keycard, slotting it into the scanner and wrenching the door open. With what little shred of reason he still retained in his quickly unravelling mind, Viktor managed to tear himself away from Yuuri’s grip, crashing through the door and into the room.

“Yuuri,” he called, throat tight and voice strangled, turning back and feeling his heart leap with fear. Because Yuuri hadn’t followed him. Viktor could see his shadow as he stood just outside of the door, still leaning against the wall. Echoing through the silence of the hall, the sound of Yuuri’s breath was all too clear. Gasping. Moaning. Choking…

And then Yuuri stumbled into view, using the doorframe to keep himself up, leaning his back against it and…

His back arched, bowing as he dipped, head lolling back with eyes heavy-lidded. His hand seemed to be trying to fumble with something on his neck, and it wasn’t until Yuuri tugged that Viktor realised he was taking off his own tie. The whole time, Yuuri’s eyes were trained on Viktor, impossibly dark in the low light coming from the hallway. Their room was cast in complete shadow, an almost blinding halo shimmering around Yuuri’s silhouette, forcing Viktor to pay attention to every curve. Every angle.

He was leaning against the door frame and he was _seductive,_ the light behind him shining on the strands of his hair, catching the flush of his cheek and the enthralling movements of his fingers as he tugged his tie loose. It shifted through his collar slowly, the sound rushing through the air and mingling with Yuuri’s panting, tie slipping loose and falling through Yuuri’s fingers onto the floor.

That movement alone was enough to completely undo Viktor’s resolve.

His mind tried to reason – something was wrong, something was _wrong_! – but Yuuri was arching his back again, slipping a hand under his own shirt, tugging buttons loose with shaking fingers and…

“Viktor… I need – I need you…” every word seemed to be a struggle, brow creased in pain, and Viktor was helpless. Gone. Utterly consumed by the absolute vision in front of him.

He closed the distance in seconds, catching Yuuri’s open mouth in his own with a pained moan, teeth clashing and lips crushing, his tongue already tasting Yuuri’s mouth fervently. _Reverently._ And Yuuri was bending under the kiss, eyes falling closed almost immediately as his own tongue lapped back in kind. Viktor was utterly captivated as he felt Yuuri’s tongue twist itself lazily under his own, now licking up, now flicking around, now running itself along his teeth. Viktor felt his hands move of their own accord, desperately seeking out skin as he roved and explored the expanse of Yuuri’s chest, dipping under his arms and trailing down his sides.

A small sound in the distance had Viktor snapping his eyes open, suddenly aware of the fact that the door was still open. It took all of his strength of will to break the kiss, tugging at Yuuri’s slender waist to reposition him as he kicked the door closed, throwing them into almost complete darkness. He expected Yuuri to comply with his movements, but he suddenly felt a strong shove to his shoulders, crying out in shock as he was spun around and pushed, his back connecting with the door behind him painfully. Yuuri was on him faster than lightning, the kiss almost violent as he pushed up on the tips of his toes. Viktor could barely keep up as Yuuri licked and sucked and bit, hands working at Viktor’s jacket, picking at the buttons of his shirt, tugging on his tie, weaving their way through to his skin.

To say that Viktor was shocked was an understatement. Around the desperate kisses and fiery touches, he could glimpse Yuuri’s face, and the expression floored him completely. He was confident. Self-assured. _Cocky_. His lips curved into a sultry smile as he tugged Viktor’s shirt loose, drawing away from the kiss ever so slightly. Viktor was entranced as he watched Yuuri’s tongue slip out to taste his lips, brow arching _just so_ as he felt his mind begin to collapse. Because Yuuri’s soft hands were slipping across the skin of his abdomen, skimming over the muscles there as they bunched and tensed, tucking themselves down under the seam of his pants and… and…

“Y—Yuuri…” Viktor sighed, head falling back against the door, eyes screwing shut as the sensation rolled through him like a wave. Like an entire ocean. Because the pads of Yuuri’s fingers were caressing the head of his now weeping cock, other hand tugging expertly at his pants to free him, revealing just how _hard_ he was…

“L—Let me…” Yuuri’s voice was strangled, and Viktor hardly had time to see his expression before Yuuri was down on his knees, hands gliding down the sides of his thighs as he dragged Viktor’s pants down and gripped at the exposed skin of his hips. _Hard_. Viktor was sure there’d be faint crescent marks there from Yuuri’s fingernails come morning, and the thought sent a thrill running through him. But he hardly had time to think on it as a shiver wracked him from head to toe, his mind reeling as he felt Yuuri’s hot breath cascade over his cock, setting it twitching and forcing a lewd groan from his now open mouth.

Viktor’s mind was screaming at him – something was wrong. Something was _wrong_. This was too good to be true. Too like all the fantasies and dreams and …

And Yuuri’s lips were at the tip.

Viktor had to shove a fist into his mouth, trying to stem the tide of embarrassingly crass Russian that was now spilling from his throat. It felt _good_. _Painfully_ good. Yuuri was lapping at the head so _softly_ , tongue just as expert as it had been in his mouth not moments before. It was like he was trying to taste every inch of him, tongue trailing along the slit and oh _God_ he was sucking…

Viktor cried out, eyes blowing wide as he felt Yuuri’s soft lips close around the head, mouthing liquidly as he began drawing him deeper. Every time his lips parted and wrapped around him, Yuuri dipped his head ever so slightly, dragging him further into his mouth with each movement. Viktor rolled his head forward, catching a glimpse of Yuuri’s face and finding himself looking down and…

“Ah! Yuuri!” he cried out, hips suddenly bucking as the sight unravelled him. Destroyed him. Because Yuuri was looking up at him with his swollen lips wrapped around his cock, eyes impossibly wide and almost _glowing_. He could see those tell-tale flecks of gold, the deep brown almost black in the darkness. There was a faint light from the window across from them, where the sprawling city lights glimmered in the distance. In the soft light, Viktor could see Yuuri’s eyes dancing with lust, rolling back ever so slightly as he drew Viktor in deeper … deeper…

“Yuuri… ah! I’m g—going to—” his words choked off as Yuuri opened his mouth wide, flaring his tongue and licking from the base to the tip in one smooth, flat stroke. Viktor shuddered and groaned, slamming a fist into the door behind him as the sensation drove him wild. Right in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to fist his hands in Yuuri’s hair, gripping at his skull and fucking his gorgeous mouth senseless. He wanted it. He needed it…

“F—Fuck my mouth, Viktor,” Yuuri breathed, mouthing the words around Viktor’s cock, head rolling as he licked at the side of his tip. He was gazing up to meet Viktor’s eyes and _pleading_. _Begging._

_It was too good to be true._

“Y –Yuuri—” Viktor tried to argue, tried to find some semblance of reason, but now Yuuri’s soft fingers were cupping the underside of his balls, rolling them slowly. _Oh_ so slowly.

He couldn’t argue.

His hand shook as he reached down, touching lightly at Yuuri’s hair before diving in to grip at it feverishly. He yanked Yuuri’s head back, the motion sharp, letting slip a moan as he watched Yuuri smile lazily in response. His eyes were closing, leaning into the touch and all but purring, mouth falling open and tongue hanging low in expectation.

Viktor gritted his teeth and hissed as he thrust his hips, feeling Yuuri’s mouth and throat close around his cock, hitting the back of his throat in one fluid movement. Yuuri choked out a sob, tears springing into the corners of his eyes and Viktor gasped. Had he hurt him? The fear had him letting go of Yuuri’s hair, eyes worried and searching as he moved his hips back…

But Yuuri’s hands dug into Viktor’s hips, eyes glaring up at him with frustration. He made an adorable sound at the back of his throat – a kind of high-pitched keening that showed just how angry he was at Viktor’s hesitation. Viktor swallowed.

Using his hands as leverage, Yuuri began to lower himself back down onto Viktor’s cock, pressing him in all the way and holding him at the back of his throat with eyes screwed shut. It was all Viktor could do to keep himself upright as he felt Yuuri’s throat spasm and contract around the head, feeling the wet muscles slip and roll, causing him to unravel. And Yuuri’s hand was twisting itself into Viktor’s own, eyes open again as he glared at him. Viktor was completely powerless as Yuuri threaded Viktor’s fingers through his own hair again, forcing him to grip him, telling him to _fuck him_ …

And with a cry he obeyed, fisting into the soft strands with renewed fervour, hips bucking and shoving his cock deeper, watching on desperately as Yuuri choked and sobbed and _smiled._ He was all but grinning around Viktor’s cock and _groaning_ with pleasure...

It was too much. Far too much. Yuuri was moaning around him, every sound sending vibrations through the length of Viktor’s cock and causing spasms of pleasure to ripple up through his abdomen. He could just about see Yuuri’s eyes rolling into the back of his head, his lithe back arching and forcing his hips up in a sordid display of wanton abandon. Viktor could see the swell of his ass through his pants, straining at the seams as he gyrated them in time to Viktor’s thrusts and God. God. _God…_

He came so hard and so fast he could hardly see, eyes rolling and vision blurring into white as the orgasm rocked through him like a lightning strike. Like a freight train. Like pure electricity. He could vaguely register that he was arching up onto the tips of his toes, muscles contracting and spasming as the sensation threatened to undo him completely.

And Yuuri was still bobbing his head, sucking and mouthing at his cock through the orgasm, his throat working as his cum spluttered and dribbled its way into him, ropes of it slewing out of the corners of his mouth because _God_ he had come so much. There was so much and Yuuri was _swallowing_ it _all_. In his post-orgasmic haze, Viktor distantly registered that Yuuri was trying to catch every drop, sucking it back into his mouth, licking it off his fingers…

“Y—Yuuri…” Viktor’s voice was a gravelly moan, Yuuri’s name hardly audible around his desperate gasps for air. He wanted to _talk_. He wanted to…

“M—More,” Yuuri groaned, face completely flushed as he sat now on the floor, hands on the carpet trying to support himself, looking up to Viktor with desperate eyes. His chest was heaving with the effort of breathing, and Viktor glimpsed the swell of Yuuri’s hardness in the crotch of his pants, eyes growing wide.

“S—Something’s ... something’s wrong with me…” Yuuri all but whispered, tears springing into his eyes and threatening to overflow. Viktor felt his heart surge, knees giving way as he scrambled towards his Yuuri, reaching his arms out to grip the other man’s shoulders.

“Something’s … ah! Wrong ... with nnh! Me … I can’t… s-stop,” every word was a monumental effort, punctuated with lewd moans and rasping breaths. Viktor moved to cradle him, holding him, hands shaking as he mouthed soft kisses into his hair.

“Yuuri,” Viktor managed, finding his mind spin back into some semblance of control. “We _have_ to find you a doctor,” he gasped, clutching Yuuri to his chest and feeling the smaller man whimper against his collarbone. “We need to— ah!”

But his words were cut off as Yuuri dug his nails into Viktor’s back, feeling the other man squirm in his grasp and crane himself upwards, mouth hunting along the stretch of his jaw and up into the hollow below his ear. A fresh shiver worked its way through Viktor’s system and he had to concentrate on _reason_.

He gripped Yuuri’s shoulders, shoving him back with considerable force. He winced slightly as he watched Yuuri’s head shake with the movement, eyes blowing wide with shock.

“Yuuri, please! We have to find a doctor!”

“No… No…!” and Yuuri’s voice was high with fear, tears now streaming down his cheeks as he squirmed and writhed on the floor. He was already working at his own shirt, snapping the buttons loose, some of them ripped completely off and skittering across the floor. Viktor watched on helplessly.

“I need … you… to fuck me … _now,_ ” Yuuri all but growled, eyes furious. Desperate. _Commanding_.

Viktor swallowed, feeling himself stir and harden ever so slightly just at the sight.

What choice did he have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cold shower time cold shower time cold shower time~
> 
> I promise there'll be some sort of resolution next chapter, oh God, I'm s o so r r y


	3. Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuckin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT IT'S 2.30AM, forgive me. Forgive me. All of my plans have gone out the window. There'll be another chapter with some resolution fluff. I can't bring myself to leave them like this.
> 
> AND THANK Y O U, for the amazing reception this fic has gotten so far. The comments. The kudos. Everything. I'm just overwhelmed. I love every single one of your horny asses.
> 
> In other news, this chapter took so long because writing smut makes me want to [ draw ](https://twitter.com/scribblingmin/status/1145788788834103297?s=21) smut, so enjoy this as a visual aid for your reading pleasure.
> 
> And I also made a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/17ZVcK6UbFena6URB7LsBA?si=j_PY6H0DRj2js6zjfqG8Yw) because I was going to add song recommendations but then the list got so long and I felt bad so here we are. Enjoy, if you're into that sort of thing.
> 
> And, as always, find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/scribblingmin) for updates on my other fics/ art/ random bs. My DMs are always open.

_Heat_.

It drowned Yuuri’s mind.

He’d had some semblance of control before – before he’d tasted Viktor’s skin. Before he’d licked every runnel of his mouth. Before he’d swallowed him whole and dragged him deeper …

Now there was just …

_Heat._

Yuuri curled in on himself, fisting a hand in his hair, trying to press as much of his body against the cool of the bathroom tiles for some kind of relief. He didn’t know how long he’d been lying there – didn’t even know what day it was, or what country he was in. As soon as he tried to chase coherent thoughts, his mind quickly spiralled into mania – into a thick _heat_ and hopeless _longing_ that steeped his mind in static.

The only things he could focus on were his lewd thoughts and the _pain_. A pain so overwhelming he could see shapes and colours flashing across his vision with every throb in his veins.

And _Heat._

He tried squirming further along the tiles, the patch he’d been sprawled on already too warm. The sharp cold that greeted his skin as he skimmed along the floor allowed him a small moment of relief – a small moment of clarity. He could begin making sense of reality.

He was in the bathroom.

Alone.

And there was a voice… a voice coming from…

Viktor was outside.

Without warning, a low growl ripped its way out of Yuuri’s throat, his eyes blowing wide with shock as he heard it echo through the little room. Had he really just made that noise? That was _him_?

Just because Viktor—?

Suddenly he was scrambling across the tiles, skin slick with sweat and slipping, causing him to crash his left shoulder into the floor painfully. He cried out, but his mind was gone before he could even bring himself to care. It dipped him back under, into a black pool of desire, taking complete control.

He was focussed on one thing, and he wouldn’t rest until he had it.

_Viktor._

He needed him. He needed—

Yuuri crashed into the door clumsily, feeling it bend under him but remain intact despite how hard he’d flung himself at it. That wouldn’t work. He was too weak. The handle. He had to find the handle.

All scratching nails and scrabbling feet, Yuuri managed to stand, leaning against the wood of the door and fumbling to get it open. To get _out_. To get to Viktor—

Locked.

_Locked._

“糞 ( _k_ _uso_ )!” he spat through gritted teeth, slipping into Japanese as his mind tore at the seams. But somehow, through the desperation, he was able to register that the door was slightly cold against his skin. His brain managed to surface once again, distantly recognising that the loud breathing and moaning was coming from _him_. It reverberated through the wood of the door and back to him like some kind of sordid feedback loop – every broken wail and pleading cry as clear as day.

_What was wrong with him?_

But his mind was gone again before he could finish the thought, sinking itself back into that mire of lust, playing puppeteer with his body.

And drowning him in _heat._

“V—Viktor…” he moaned, the sound far too lewd, voice breaking with desperation. He fumbled with the handle again, panting and gasping, crushing himself into the door. Maybe if he pushed hard enough…

There was a noise on the other side. Viktor’s voice. Viktor’s _voice_.

“I—I’m sorry Yuuri!” and there was a curse. A groan. Viktor was there. Something was wrong. Why did his voice sound so high? Yuuri couldn’t think through the haze – couldn’t stop his mind from surfacing and drowning itself over and over …

He slid his face down the cool surface of the door, breath ragged as he tried to focus on bringing himself back to clarity once more. The pain spasmed through him relentlessly, wracking his entire body, beginning in his groin and shooting up through his abdomen. He was so hard he thought he was going to tear himself in two, every nerve, every cell in his body, begging for release…

Yuuri let out a small whine, trying to force his mind to stay afloat, straining to hear past his own lewd noises. He managed to make out that Viktor was speaking again on the other side of the door. Voice low. Desperate. And he was…

Speaking in Russian?

But before Yuuri could even begin to understand what that meant, his mind drowned itself once more, another painful spasm shooting through every fibre of his being. Viktor’s voice. Viktor’s low, desperate voice. It was almost too much to bear. He wanted that voice – wanted to grasp it and contain it and make it sing just for him. Make it croon his name. Make it growl. Make it _beg_.

He wanted skin. He wanted to be _full_. He wanted to _take_.

He wanted, he wanted, he wanted…

 _Heat_.

“Yuuri? Can you hear me?”

Yuuri froze, a high-pitched keening bubbling up and out of his throat by way of response despite how much he tried to stop it. He crumpled to the floor, curling in on himself. The sound of his name on Viktor’s tongue had unravelled him entirely, echoing through his mind like some kind of wicked mantra. Viktor seemed to hear him, calling out his name again, completely unaware of how it made Yuuri twitch and writhe, shivers and tremors wracking him from head to toe. He was hard. _So_ hard. He could see it – see his cock flushed red and shining with precum, straining up and brushing against his lower stomach.

At some point prior, he’d taken off all his clothes, though the memory was jagged and only came back to him in waves. He could remember tasting … Viktor… tasting his cock and swallowing him … begging for more… unbuttoning his shirt …

Yuuri let out another lewd moan as the memories suddenly rushed back, mind scrambling to chase the sensation – _any_ sensation – in its lust-crazed state. Yuuri had sucked Viktor off, had swallowed his cum and _begged for more_. And Viktor had let him, at first. Had watched on with eyes both fearful and hungry as Yuuri had straddled him, slipping out of his clothes piece by piece until he could feel Viktor’s quickly stiffening cock against his own skin, slipping himself to fit in Viktor’s lap. It was like perfect puzzle pieces. Like magnets. Like a key in a lock. He’d been vaguely aware of the fact that he’d need to prepare before he let himself _really_ sit in Viktor’s lap, but even like that, skin to skin, it had been enough. Enough to take the edge off the pain and keep him breathing.

Until Viktor had…

Had what?

Yuuri could hardly think around the memories. As he relived the sensation, his hand instinctively reached down between his legs, the touch of the pads of his fingers against the head of his cock causing him to cry out, Viktor’s name simmering just below the surface. He managed to cut it off, distantly aware that it was _shameful_ to touch himself, here, on the floor of a hotel bathroom, moaning Viktor’s name like some kind of animal in heat.

In _Heat_.

“Yuuri… Yuuri I’m so sorry,” Viktor’s voice again. Yuuri screwed his eyes shut, mind reeling as he realised that Viktor had moved closer. He must have been right outside the door, speaking to him from just the other side. Close enough to touch…

“V—Viktor… ah! Stop…” a curling heat shot through his abdomen, gripping him and making him cry out as his cock throbbed painfully. He gripped his cock, immediately pumping his hand in an unsteady rhythm, fisting the base, shoulders hunching as he bent inwards even further. But it wasn’t enough. His other hand slipped behind him, reaching down to touch the swell of his own ass, dipping between the cheeks and sliding easily along his sweat-soaked skin. The sound of Viktor’s voice – desperate, worried, frantic – was more than enough to send him over the edge. He could feel it rushing at him like a wave, faster than any orgasm he’d ever had before, and he needed to feel _full_. He needed to feel like he was about to tear apart at the seams. He felt his hips move on their own, pistoning himself into his hand as he gripped his cock tighter, desperately mewling and shoving his face into the floor to quiet the noises.

Because his fingers were already working at his entrance, pressing the tight ring of muscle until it gave way. He let out a long, low moan, the sound echoing through the bathroom vividly. Viktor was talking frantically on the other side of the door, Russian and English mixing together in his panic. It was music. It was the sweetest of erotica. Yuuri gasped as he quickly stuffed another finger inside him, bending and twisting his hips until he found the right spot. The spot he’d found when he was younger, curled up in his bed in Hasetsu, staring at posters of Viktor and crying out his name…

“… to Yakov. He’s looking into camera footage. We’ll find out what happened…” Viktor was still speaking. Speaking so quickly that Yuuri could barely keep up. Yakov? Footage? None of those words meant anything to him. Nothing made sense. The only thing he could hone in on was the timbre of Viktor’s voice and the sensation of his fingers curling up _deeper_ inside him. The cool of the tiles against his face helped to keep him grounded. Helped him to focus on coordinating his hands, rocking his hips ever so slightly to either grind up into his palm or impale himself on his fingers. He managed to press a third finger in as he heard Viktor call his name once again, muffling a cry into the cold tiles.

“Yuuri—” Viktor began, but Yuuri couldn’t hear the rest, tears springing into the corners of his eyes as he cried out, arching his back and feeling his fingers hit that sweet spot _perfectly_. The orgasm wracked through him hard and fast, thick white come painting his hands, his stomach, the tiles beneath him as he choked out a sob, shivering helplessly in the aftermath.

“… a doctor? But it _is_ an emergency, he’s been _drugged_!” Viktor was yelling. Yelling at someone else? Yuuri blinked and tried to focus his eyes, the all-consuming _heat_ still casting a red haze across his mind. His stomach sunk as he realised he was still hard despite the desperate climax he’d just managed to survive. A thin shiver of icy fear slithered its way down his spine as he wondered if he’d ever find proper _release_. If this ride would ever _end._ Was Viktor going to keep him in here forever? What was Viktor even saying? Why had he locked him in? Viktor… Viktor…

“Viktor,” he groaned, slowly sliding his fingers out of his twitching hole, arms shaking as he tried to force himself upwards. “Viktor, nnh! … Please…” a sob caught in his throat as the tears flowed freely. He _needed him_. Why wouldn’t he _let him out_?

“Can’t you hear him?! I’m not going to take no for an answer!”

Viktor… Viktor was…

Yuuri leant against the door, his mind gradually sifting into some sort of logical state as the waves of pleasure from his orgasm offered some respite. Viktor was yelling. _Loudly_. He was arguing.

“Viktor… it’s okay…” Yuuri managed to gasp, forehead against the door as he screwed his eyes shut. Only silence greeted him from the other side, and around the overwhelming _heat_ and _lust_ and _fear,_ he felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

Viktor was _worried about him_.

He’d made Viktor worry…

“I’m … ah!” he shivered as another hot surge of desire coursed its way through him, steadying himself and forcing his mouth to work.

“I’m sorry, Viktor… I’m so sorry…”

There was another stretch of silence, Yuuri’s desperate gasps the only thing he could hear echoing back at him. But then he heard a soft noise of affirmation. Another beat…

“Alright. Yes. I understand…” and Viktor’s voice sounded ever so slightly more in control. It wasn’t high and desperate with panic anymore. It was calmer. Lower…

Yuuri winced as his cock throbbed in response, hanging his head and bracing himself against the door. He’d have to jerk himself off again at this rate, the pain starting to clench and twist in his gut just as furiously as before. He snaked an arm down along his abdomen…

But before he could begin, he heard a resounding _click_ through the wood of the door, eyes widening in shock as he watched the handle beside him turn.

He managed to step back just in time, body swaying as he tried to steady himself, the door swinging open gently.

Through the messy strands of his hair, Yuuri managed to make out the figure standing in the doorway. His shirt was slightly open. Rumpled. Buttons were missing. He could see the tantalizing strip of skin exposed at the chest, almost luminous in its paleness. A long, slender neck. Angry red welts along the throat and jaw. Lips slightly parted. Worried eyes. Mussed hair…

“V—Viktor…” the desire was overwhelming. Animalistic. Yuuri could barely stand, it gripped him so forcefully. He doubled over again, clenching at his lower abdomen as every cell in his body cried out for the man in front of him. Cried out for _touch_. For _fullness_. For…

“Yuuri, I’m so sorry…” Viktor’s voice again. It sounded infinitely more melodic and _beautiful_ like this. With nothing in the way. Lilting and soft and…

Yuuri managed to stumble forwards, feet moving on their own, pulled by Viktor’s voice and Viktor’s lips and Viktor’s…

“Yuuri, wait—” and Viktor was closing the distance, slipping an arm around his naked waist easily, the touch causing Yuuri to melt like ice in fire. It was so _warm_. So _soft_. But he could also feel Viktor’s strong muscles, hard through the thin fabric of his shirt, bunching as he bore Yuuri’s weight effortlessly. And Yuuri couldn’t help but lean into him, burying his face in Viktor’s chest and _inhaling_. The smell. _God_ the smell. It was a banquet. Sweat and musk and …

“Ah… Viktor… nnh!” and Yuuri was writhing in his grip. Shivering. He could feel his hands spasm, moving on their own, already roving under Viktor’s shirt. Despite it all, his mind managed to regain some semblance of control. To reason. He was distantly aware of just how _embarrassing_ this was. He was touching Viktor. _Viktor!_ Squirming and panting like some kind of sex-addict. He’d all but _assaulted_ him before. It was unthinkable. He was… he—

“Hush, Yuuri, it’s okay,” and Viktor’s lips were in his hair, huffing hot breaths across the strands and tickling Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri mewled in response, heart sinking in fear. Viktor must be disgusted. Must be horrified that Yuuri was behaving in such a way…

There was a wet sensation falling across his cheeks, and as Yuuri lifted his head he saw a wet patch on Viktor’s shirt.

He was _crying?_

“Shhh…” Viktor’s voice was soft. Crooning. One arm was wrapped about him, the other petting his hair, gently pushing Yuuri’s head back down to rest on Viktor’s chest. Soothing. Soft. _Warm…_

“We’ll find him,” Viktor said suddenly, voice dark, and Yuuri couldn’t help but squirm in his grip, the rumble in Viktor’s chest right by his ear sending sinful thrills through his veins. “Don’t worry.”

“F—Find … who?” Yuuri managed, whimpering and gasping at the sensation of Viktor’s hand in his hair, every touch like a charge of electricity, shooting through his heart and pooling in his groin.

“The man who did this to you,” Viktor all but growled, arm slipping and gripping tighter about Yuuri’s waist, all but crushing him to his chest. Yuuri gasped and clenched his own fists in the fabric of Viktor’s shirt, shivering uncontrollably. The rush was returning – waves of desire crashing over him and sending him into a spin. He needed release soon. The pain was almost unbearable. But the tiny voice of reason at the back of his mind tried to hold onto this moment. This perfect moment. Because, no matter how embarrassing it was to be completely naked and shivering with desire in Viktor’s lap, it was too precious to let go. Holding Viktor. Being _held_ by him.

It was so peaceful…

So _right._

But he could feel the desire taking over. In the small amount of time he had left, he forced his brain to sift through Viktor’s words. A man. Someone … did this to him? He could barely register what that even meant. All he knew was that he needed… he needed…

“Viktor… please…” he all but mouthed, head craning to touch his lips gently at Viktor’s exposed collarbone. “I need…”

“The doctor said this was all I could do…” Viktor’s voice sounded far away. Strained. Panicked. “I’m so sorry Yuuri. I don’t … I don’t want to—” and his voice choked off as a strange sound escaped Viktor’s lips. It was enough to snap Yuuri into some sort of reality, his eyes shifting into focus as he pushed himself away, glancing up at Viktor desperately through the loose strands of his hair.

Viktor didn’t want to…

His chest felt like it was going to collapse.

Tears sprang into Yuuri’s eyes without warning, hazing his vision as he watched Viktor chew on his lower lip, the muscles in his neck straining as he seemed to be trying to keep himself under control. His eyes were dark. Pupils blown wide and lids heavy. Staring at some fixed point beyond Yuuri’s head, refusing to meet his gaze. He suddenly lifted his hand and carded his fingers through his own hair, nervously glancing every which way.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, holding his head in his hand. “I’m so sorry. I’m _so_ sorry, Yuuri …” and he was looking at him now through his fingers. Terrified. Forlorn.

“The doctor,” he breathed, hand shaking as he reached down to cup Yuuri’s cheek, the touch setting Yuuri’s skin alight. “He said—,” Viktor swallowed thickly, brow furrowing as he tried to speak, “He said this was the best way…” and he was almost speaking to himself his voice was so soft. Like he was trying to convince himself. Trying to justify it all. And suddenly the hand around Yuuri waist tightened again, pulling him close, pressing Yuuri’s bare chest to his own.

The doctor…

The best way…

Yuuri tried furiously to keep up, but the touches, the pressure, the _need_ , it consumed his mind so completely he knew he’d lose control of everything soon enough.

Viktor didn’t want to. _Couldn’t_ want to.

But he would anyway.

“Please…” was all Yuuri could manage, brain finally catching up, stumbling on doubts and fears, racing towards the centre of all his desire like a lifeline. Viktor would help him. Viktor didn’t want to, but he _would…_

And before Yuuri could process what all of that meant – process the way his chest felt like it was caving in on itself as his heart clenched painfully – Viktor’s hand was slipping down to his chin. Gripping. Lifting.

Yuuri had just enough time to let out a soft moan before their lips crashed together, the soft press of Viktor’s tongue already seeking entrance. The desire that had been simmering just below the surface of Yuuri’s mind suddenly exploded, the rush crashing into a tidal wave of _want_ and _need_. The kiss was every bit as delectable as the first, their tongues slipping across each other desperately and tasting every inch of each other. Yuuri was gone. Lost in the sensations that sent his mind into a frenzy. Into static. The entire world melted away around them until it was just their lips, locked, open, tongues, teeth, moans.

Yuuri effortlessly twisted in Viktor’s grip, using his legs to push his hips upwards, moving fluidly to straddle him. As he settled in his lap once again, Yuuri felt his chest surge at the _rightness, despite_ it all _._ And Viktor _let him_. _Helped_ him. His arms were guiding him at his waist, fingers skimming along the bare skin, gliding over the raised hills of his pelvic bones, ducking lower…

“May I?” Viktor gasped, breaking the kiss and gazing up at Yuuri with eyes so dark Yuuri could hardly tell they were blue. In any other situation, Yuuri might have been scared. Fearful of how dark and hungry and _predatory_ Viktor’s eyes were.

But in that moment, he could only moan, the sight causing his cock to twitch, Viktor’s hands so close…

By way of an answer – because Yuuri didn’t trust his voice in the slightest – he bucked his hips, pressing his cock into Viktor’s palm, head falling back ever so slightly at the touch as his mouth fell slack. Viktor gasped in response, leaning in to press open mouthed kisses across the exposed length of Yuuri’s neck, hand twisting and caressing the side of Yuuri’s cock and it was almost _painful_. Painfully good and _not enough_. He groaned with frustration, teeth nipping at the flush softness of Viktor’s lips, dragging the bottom lip between his teeth and relishing the way Viktor gasped, the new rhythm of his hand faltering ever so slightly.

“M—More…” Yuuri mumbled into the kiss, licking down into Viktor’s mouth and rolling his hips back up into Viktor’s hand. The other man picked up on Yuuri’s request quickly, kissing back in kind as he slid his fingers to the base, holding Yuuri’s cock in a full-fisted grip. Yuuri cried out into Viktor’s mouth, angling his head and looping his arms about Viktor’s shoulders.

And then Viktor was sliding his hand up the hard length of Yuuri’s cock, twisting ever so slightly at the tip before gliding back down to the base and _God… oh God…_

The touch was pure heaven. His hand was warm. Smooth. Smoother than anything Yuuri had ever felt. And his cock was already weeping, slicking the way for Viktor’s hand and allowing him to pick up a dangerously slow, liquid pace. Yuuri whined and keened, hips rocking of their own accord. He could feel the muscles at his hole twitch ever so slightly, the memory of having his fingers there moments ago still fresh in his mind. Arching his back and unlooping one of his arms, he reached back instinctively, fingers sliding easily over slick skin and pressing against—

“No.”

Yuuri’s eyes flew open, the kiss broken, Viktor’s face now staring up at him through the curtain of his hair. His eyes flashed in the low light, narrowing in warning as his spare hand suddenly reached to grip Yuuri’s wrist. Yuuri thought he probably should be concerned at how hard Viktor was holding him – fingers digging against the bones of his wrist and sending a sharp stab of pain up and along his forearm. But all Yuuri could do was moan, long and loud, because the pain was mingling with his heavy desire and turning it into some sort of sinful cocktail of pleasure.

But everything stopped when Viktor’s hand stilled against his cock, slipping away and leaving it cold in the empty air. Yuuri keened, wriggling his hips and reaching down instinctively to replace the touch he’d lost.

But Viktor was too quick, his other arm catching Yuuri’s other wrist effortlessly. Helpless against Viktor’s strength – compounded by the fact that Yuuri was so completely _undone_ with desire – Yuuri could do nothing but grind in Viktor’s lap, relishing the rub of the fabric of Viktor’s pants, feeling his hardness underneath, swelling and pressing at the seams.

“P—Please…” he gasped, struggling futilely against Viktor’s fingers. But Yuuri knew, from the cold stare he was receiving, from the way Viktor licked his lips, that it was hopeless. He wouldn’t let him…

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” Viktor all but breathed, leaning up to plant gentle kisses along the length of Yuuri’s throat, gasping and shivering at the sensation. “I can’t let you. You’ll hurt yourself…”

Yuuri would have laughed in any other situation, but from the timbre of Viktor’s voice, he could tell there was something else. Something behind his words. Something he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around…

“Then—ah! Then you…” Yuuri managed to gasp out around moans, still grinding himself into Viktor’s lap, rubbing his own length along Viktor’s through the fabric of his pants.

Viktor made a strange noise at the back of his throat, brow creasing as he ran his teeth along Yuuri’s jawline. The hand that gripped him from behind suddenly curled, letting go before slipping down to caress Yuuri’s ass, the pads of his fingers gripping ever so slightly. Yuuri let out a whine as he pressed himself back into the touch, head falling back as his mind scrambled for purchase.

Viktor’s other hand released Yuuri’s wrist, the blood rushing through it and sending painful pins and needles through his palm. Yuuri hissed and then gasped out in shock as Viktor suddenly shifted his weight, gripping the soft swell of Yuuri’s ass in both hands, lifting him effortlessly and moving his legs out from under him.

“We need—Mmh!” Viktor’s voice was swallowed as Yuuri pressed another desperate open-mouthed kiss to his lips, licking down as he knelt beside him, arcing his back down so that Viktor could crane over him. Viktor was kneeling in front of him, but he soon moved to stand, slipping his hands from Yuuri’s ass to his hips, then the underside of his thighs and _lifting…_

Yuuri yelped into Viktor’s mouth, distantly registering just how strong Viktor had to be to pull off such a lift without breaking their kiss. Yuuri felt the world shift and spin as he was hoisted higher, licking down into Viktor’s mouth now, wrapping his legs around Viktor’s waist. They were moving, though he hardly registered it as his eyes fluttered closed, relishing the press of Viktor against his throbbing cock, using his core muscles to grind himself down…

But Viktor had a firm grip on his legs, and with one sure movement, he flung Yuuri onto the bed behind them. Yuuri bounced ever so slightly from the force, head falling back onto the sheets as he stared up at Viktor with eyes blown wide.

The vision was enough to tear another moan from his throat. Viktor was standing at the foot of the bed, eyes impossibly dark, mouth slightly open with lips swollen and wet. Yuuri watched on, completely mesmerised, as Viktor’s tongue flicked out to lick at the corner of his mouth, hands quickly slipping under the fabric of his shirt to slide it off his shoulders. The skin that exposed itself there looked almost milky in the low light, smooth and slightly raised over muscles and veins and bone. Yuuri found himself drinking in every inch with his eyes, watching as Viktor’s long fingers tugged at the button and zipper of his pants, belt long discarded after their first encounter. As he stepped out of his pants, Yuuri felt his body react instantly, back arching and pressing his shoulders back into the bed, grinding himself down on the invisible hardness he could almost _feel_ between his legs already. Because he could clearly see Viktor was hard and _straining_ against his underwear and Yuuri wanted him. Wanted him _inside_ him. Wanted to feel so full he couldn’t move.

“Ah.. Need… it… Nnh!” Yuuri could hardly form sentences as he writhed in place, fisting his hands in the sheets for some kind of purchase. And Viktor was still watching him, expression undecipherable, eyes dark and predatory.  
He seemed to be thinking, brow slightly furrowed in what looked like worry, though Yuuri couldn’t quite make sense of it. Why was he stopping? Why was he _teasing_ him? Why was he…?

But Viktor seemed to have made his decision, a shaky breath falling from his lips as he ducked his head down. He was completely naked now, the length of his cock bobbing as he shifted onto the bed, Yuuri’s eyes following it hungrily. And Yuuri’s tongue darted out to lick his lips in response, eyes fluttering shut briefly as his mind whirled with fantasies. Fantasies he was so used to they were sewn into the fabric of his mind. Fantasies he’d nursed through adolescence and the first years of his adulthood. Fantasies that forced him to learn how to prepare himself, how to touch himself, how to stretch and widen and _take…_

A hot sensation on his chest had his eyes drifting open, slowly shifting themselves into focus as he saw the low light from the window glimmer across silver hair. Silver hair that was floating across his chest as Viktor kissed and mouthed at Yuuri’s collarbone. At the dip in his sternum. At the sensitive flesh around his nipple.

“Ah… yes…” Yuuri whispered, voice cracking as another lewd moan broke from his throat, head rolling and pressing back into the covers on the bed. Viktor was teasing at his nipple with his lips, hot breath washing over its hard peak as his mouth opened.

Yuuri was distantly aware of a soft click near his head – they were close to the edge of the bed, and as he glanced up, he could see Viktor’s hand rummaging through the drawer of the side table. His head was still dipped low over Yuuri’s chest, not breaking contact as his tongue darted out to tease circles around Yuuri’s nipple. He groaned loud and low, eyes rolling back into his skull as the teasing sent visceral surges of pleasure through his nervous system. Another click near his ear registered in his brain, but he was too consumed with the wet sensation of Viktor’s tongue, hot and smooth, gliding across his skin, to bother caring.

Another sound had his eyes drifting open lazily, vision blurry through his lashes. He could see the low light from the window glinting off something in Viktor’s hand, disappearing as he passed it between them. Yuuri furrowed his brow, but soon gasped and screwed his eyes shut as Viktor’s tongue passed over the tip of his nipple. Light. _Feather-light_. _Teasing_ …

“Nnh… please… Viktor…” Yuuri mewled, twisting his head and pressing the side of his face into the sheets. Viktor only hummed in response, the vibrations from his voice thrilling through his chest and tearing another sordid moan from Yuuri’s throat.

Viktor’s tongue was circling his nipple again, drawing closer and closer to the tip and _God_ Yuuri needed more. It wasn’t enough – not nearly enough. The need was so desperate it _hurt_ and—

“Ah!” Yuuri cried out, voice completely broken, ringing out around the small hotel room, loud and lewd, because _oh God_ Viktor was sucking at his nipple, teeth grazing the tip and there were _fingers slipping down his back and into the hollow of his tailbone and…_

His brain managed to register that it was lube that Viktor had been holding, the bottle now tossed to the side and resting by his head. His eyes shifted in and out of focus as he felt the thick liquid touch his skin, allowing Viktor’s fingers to slip between his cheeks easily, his legs falling open instinctively to give Viktor better access. He was arcing up into Viktor’s tongue, relishing every flash of pleasure as Viktor sucked and pulled at the sensitive skin, his fingers mimicking the rhythm as he played with his entrance, teasing and pressing at the ring of muscle.

“In… please … God…” and Yuuri arched his back further, craning his head backward and gasping for air. Viktor seemed to hear him this time, pressing one long finger in past the ring slowly, slowly, _too slowly._ Pressing into the hot spasming muscles and searching. Yuuri tried to angle his hips so that he could find some sort of leverage, desperate to feel _more_. To feel _full._

Despite the loud rush of blood in his ears and the way his brain refused to function, Yuuri was distantly aware of a noise. Of words. It took him a moment to realise it was him he could hear, still babbling a string of words, letting them fall from his open mouth, panting and gasping, saliva dripping from his tongue as it lolled, eyes rolling back. And now the words were incoherent because Viktor had pressed in deeper – right up to his knuckle – and Yuuri’s head was spinning. Floating. Flying.

“More… nnh! お願い、お願い( _onegai, onegai_ )…” his brain was lost. Utterly unravelled. English and Japanese and Russian and _moans_ broiled and surged and fell from his lips. What day was it? Where were they? What was his _name?_ How many fingers were inside him? Had he come already? When would Viktor—

“Yuuri,” a low growl. He snapped his eyes open, glancing down through the thick haze that clouded his vision to see Viktor peering up at him. He was still positioned close to his nipple, mouth slightly parted, lips red and swollen from all the sucking and mouthing. Viktor seemed worried – his brow creased and his eyes flashing in the low light.

“Breathe,” he said in a soft voice, keeping Yuuri’s gaze locked with his as he stared him full in the eye, trying to send a message.

Breathe.

Yes. He had to breathe.

Yuuri let in a shaky breath, slightly more in control of himself now that Viktor’s hand had stilled inside him. And he could count again. Could count three fingers inside him.

Three fingers…

“お願い( _onegai_ ), Viktor… お願い, もっと ( _onegai, motto_ ) …” and Yuuri was gone again. His mind torn to ribbons. He could feel his hips moving of their own accord, grinding down hard so he could fuck himself back onto Viktor’s knuckles. He could hear the liquid sound filling the room, lewd and loud and _God_ it was hot. So explicitly sexy that it set his cock twitching against the base of his stomach. Curled pleasure, hot and heavy, down into his lower abdomen. Had his eyes rolling and his neck craning back…

“You’re sucking me in…” Viktor’s voice. Viktor’s _voice_. Yuuri mewled into the sheets, fisting them in a white-knuckle grip and lifting them up to his mouth. He couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t wait any longer…

“Are you ready?” Viktor whispered, hot breath cascading across the skin of Yuuri’s cheek. His eyes rolled back into focus, distantly aware of Viktor’s face mere inches away from his own, one arm caging him in while the other was still curled under him and _in_ him. He could feel a slight strain in his muscles, and with a jolt he realised his knees were on Viktor’s shoulders, his body almost folded in half as Viktor worked at him. Now scissoring. Now pressing. Now kneading…

“はい、はい、早く( _hai, hai, hayaku_ )…!” Yuuri let out a desperate wail, muscles bunching and tensing as he lifted his hips higher, pressing up until he could feel Viktor’s knuckles digging painfully into the soft skin around his entrance. But even as he stretched and tensed to try and _fill_ himself, Viktor still managed to pull away, fingers slipping out with a lewd liquid sound, leaving Yuuri gaping and twitching. Empty.

“いいえ、いいえ、いいえ ( _iie, iie, iie_ )!” Yuuri sobbed, words were slurred with desperation, his head slamming back into the bed as he let out a frustrated groan, hips bucking wildly. It was maddening. Infuriating. _Painful_. He needed Viktor to _fill him_. To split his sides and tear him to shreds and—

And the world suddenly froze as Yuuri felt something hot and round and _large_ press against his entrance.

“прекрасный ( _prekrasnyy_ ),” Yuuri heard, the word jarring his mind. He couldn’t think around the insatiable _need_ that consumed him. Couldn’t register what language Viktor was speaking – what language Yuuri was even _thinking_ in anymore. Because his hole was twitching and spasming and he could _hear it_. Like it was begging…

“Yuuri…” Viktor’s voice a prayer. A song. It filled Yuuri’s mind and had him falling.

And then Viktor was pressing into him, his head popping easily past the ring of stretched muscle, squeezing its way through and _in…_

Viktor was leaning over him now, Yuuri’s legs stretching, years of training allowing the movement easily as his flexibility proved its worth. Viktor was pressing his face into the crook of Yuuri’s shoulder, breathing hard and fast and mouthing incoherent words into his skin. And he was still pressing into Yuuri’s hole, slowly allowing Yuuri to relax around him, giving his muscles time to adjust as he yielded inch by inch. Yuuri sighed and moaned and squirmed, head falling to the side so that he could whisper nonsense into Viktor’s hair. It wasn’t long before he could feel Viktor’s thighs press against him, his cock completely sheathed, Yuuri writhing in his arms and crying out his name over and over and over. Viktor finally stopped, letting Yuuri’s spasming muscles settle and relax, a soft moan rumbling in his throat and vibrating through Yuuri’s neck. With a trembling hand, Yuuri managed to reach up and cradle Viktor’s face at his side, tracing a shivering line along the length of his jaw, pressing ever so slightly so that he could pull him closer and mouth a breathy kiss into his hair. It was perfect. Painfully perfect. Viktor … in him … around him… beside him … everything. His whole world was Viktor. Had always been Viktor. He thought he was falling now, but he realised he’d been falling for months. For _years._ Falling so hard and so fast because around the insatiable desire and desperate fear he just couldn’t shake the sense of _rightness_. Of _perfection_. His chest was fit to bursting, surging with a warmth he could barely describe. Because he’d never felt this way before – had never considered someone else could make him feel so happy. So light. He wanted to laugh.

Viktor was whispering his name into his skin, between each one a soft kiss planted at his pulse point. Yuuri let himself rock gently into Viktor’s hips, arching his back ever so slightly, testing the feeling. He gasped as Viktor twisted his hips in kind, angling _just so_ and…

Yuuri cried out desperately, mewling and sobbing, shapes and lights dancing across his vision. He could feel his eyes rolling back almost painfully, hand fisting into Viktor’s hair as he let his head fall, holding Viktor close and trying to breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

“Is … this … okay?” Yuuri heard Viktor’s voice, rasping and desperate. Yuuri could barely comprehend language, settling for nodding his head and moaning by way of response, voice high and broken. _Yes,_ it was okay. More than okay. Perfect. Perfect.

“お願い( _onegai_ )…” he managed to whisper, nestling his face into Viktor’s hair and threading his fingers into the strands.

Viktor let out a pained groan, mouthing at the juncture of Yuuri’s throat and shoulder, hips rolling slowly. Yuuri gasped and cried out, “Yes… Yes…” and that seemed to send Viktor over the edge, his hips suddenly snapping as he let out a loud cry.

Yuuri’s entire world exploded into lights and colours, expanding and contracting, widening out to fill everything before spiralling down to focus on that one sensation. The only sensation that mattered. Viktor, pumping into him, shouting and crying out Yuuri’s name, filling him over and over, slamming into his prostrate mercilessly until Yuuri was unravelling and coming apart at the seams. The orgasm was so hard and so fast he felt splatters of cum rope themselves across his neck and cheek, sticking to his hair, dripping onto the sheets. He cried and screamed, digging painful crescents into the skin of Viktor’s shoulder, holding on for dear life as Viktor quickened his pace. Every one of his muscles was spasming – shivers and tremors wracking him from head to toe as Viktor fucked him through his orgasm. He felt himself slipping into darkness, mind shutting down slowly as the orgasm tore him apart. He dragged thin welts down Viktor’s back, hearing Viktor gasping and muttering in Russian before crying out Yuuri’s name once more, a hot liquid feeling spreading through his abdomen. Viktor had come. Had come inside him. Was filling him… filling him whole… complete…

He could feel tears slip out of the corner of his eyes, hands falling limp at his sides, letting his legs slip off of Viktor’s shoulders and come to rest curled around his hips instead. Complete. He was complete. He wanted to keep Viktor inside him forever. Wanted to hold that liquid feeling in his abdomen and treasure it. It was perfect. It was…

“God… Yuuri… God,” and Viktor’s arms which were caging him in on either side suddenly gave way, his chest crumpling as he fell down on top of him. Yuuri gasped, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realised Viktor was just as spent as he was. He lazily looped his arms about Viktor’s neck, pulling him up into his neck, finally letting himself _breathe_.

Yuuri hardly heard Viktor’s voice as the sudden urge to sleep overtook his mind. He could feel it rumbling through his chest, distant words mouthed at his skin... but it was like sounds through water. He was sinking and he couldn’t... he couldn’t...

He drifted into sleep, curling into Viktor’s embrace, distantly aware that he’d finally found release as the fever broke. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RESOLUTION NEXT CHAPTER. I PROMISE. I'M SO SORRY.
> 
> **Translations:**
> 
> 糞 - ( _kuso_ ) - Shit
> 
> お願い - ( _onegai_ ) - Please
> 
> もっと - ( _motto_ ) – More
> 
> はい、はい、早く- ( _hai, hai, hayaku_ ) – Yes, yes, hurry
> 
> いいえ、いいえ、いいえ - ( _iie, iie, iie_ ) – No, no, no
> 
> прекрасный - ( _prekrasnyy_ ) - Beautiful


	4. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a [ song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YkLjqFpBh84) that I couldn't stop listening to as I wrote this~

Viktor had been awake for hours.

Soon after Yuuri had fallen asleep, he’d repositioned himself to allow Yuuri’s head to rest in his lap, sitting up in the bed with his own head leaning against the headboard. He knew it would be a while before sleep took him – if it took him at all. His top priority was Yuuri’s comfort, so moving too much wasn’t an option. He’d considered, close to midnight, that a hot shower might be in order – for both of them – but soon scrapped the thought when Yuuri had nuzzled himself into Viktor’s stomach and let loose a contented sigh. No. Moving was _not_ an option.

Besides, Viktor thought absently, the ragged guilt that consumed him kept him rooted in place either way.

It had crept up on him soon after Yuuri had fallen asleep, face innocent and relaxed. Vulnerable. It was the kind of expression he would have adored to see, in any other circumstance. Now, it only reminded him of how complete the devastation would be when Yuuri finally woke.

He wished he could capture this moment forever. Freeze it in ice. Set it on the shelf of his heart and admire it. Pull it out on quiet nights and quietly cherish it.

Because he knew, as he stroked his fingers hesitantly through the soft strands of Yuuri’s hair, that when Yuuri woke it would all shatter into pieces.

The guilt ate away at him. The first inklings had begun when Viktor had quickly realised that Yuuri wouldn’t be able to skate his free program tomorrow. He would have to call the ISU and announce Yuuri’s withdrawal. They already knew about the drugging incident – he’d been on the phone with them for what felt like hours earlier that evening. Desperate for answers. Desperate for some kind of vengeance. They had a profile of the man in question, but the only images they had managed to procure were blurry shots from the security cameras in the bathroom and hallways. They depicted a man dressed in a bulky parka, eyes hidden, dropping something into a water bottle over the sinks before slinking back out into the hallways. Another camera had captured the moment the man had offered the bottle to Yuuri – his back to the camera while Yuuri smiled and bowed and thanked him.

 _Thanked_ him.

When Viktor had seen the images, he’d been consumed by a bitter, desperate fury. The other man had actually thought – had actually _believed_ \- he had some kind of right to fuck with his Yuuri. Some kind of twisted claim to his body. And the thought was all the more painful in the guilty aftermath of Viktor’s actions. Hadn’t Viktor just done the same thing? Hadn’t he just laid claim to Yuuri completely? Taken his free will and fucked it into the night like some kind of animal?

The anger was so bitter, Viktor could feel tears slip from his eyes, dripping down onto the hands gently tangled in Yuuri’s hair and rubbing circles across his back. Flowing freely when he heard Yuuri mumble in his sleep.

What right did he have?

He’d tried to tell himself that he had no other choice. The ISU had managed to find the discarded water bottle in one of the rubbish bins, quickly testing the residue that remained. The drug was a kind of aphrodisiac, used frequently by mobsters and pimps in the sex industry. The doctors they had consulted had recommended rest. Water. And sex. The drug was so potent that Yuuri’s heart wouldn’t hold out without some kind of sexual release. They’d warned of the possibility of seizures. Cardiac arrest. And Viktor was the only one there to aid him. The doctor had been sympathetic towards him on the phone. As if the idea of sleeping with Yuuri was some kind of distasteful duty. That Viktor was a hero for following through.

_A hero._

The thought left a sour taste in Viktor’s mouth.

After the doctor, Viktor had called Yakov. He knew his old coach had had experience with drug scandals in the past. Knew he would know the best way to handle it. Viktor had expected some kind of lecture to follow, but Yakov had simply offered a gruff noise of affirmation, stating that he’d already called the police and that he’d speak with them on his behalf.

Because Viktor was too weak to do it himself. He knew that just discussing the events of that night would send him into a spin. Not to mention the thought of what would happen afterward. He knew from Chris’ brief messages that there had been uniforms swarming the rink after the GPF was over. That the media had cottoned on, driven into a frenzy by someone’s mention of a “drug suspicion.” 

Yet another problem to add to the list.

The reporters were sure to have a field day when they heard that Yuuri wouldn’t be withdrawing. Accusations would run wild. The word “drugs” would be front and centre of every headline, every interview. They’d have to deal with all of the mindless questions and suspicions or risk looking guilty, despite the fact that Yuuri was the victim. It was the way the elite sporting world worked, and Viktor knew its dangers all too well. Had seen it first hand at many competitions. Had copped earfuls from Yakov on countless occasions.

Yet despite his own fears, Viktor wanted nothing more than to shoulder the entirety of the burden. Confess that his amateur ability as a coach had facilitated such a scandal. The fallout would be intense, but he found he could hardly bring himself to care. He wanted to shield Yuuri from as much as he could – protect this sleeping vulnerable figure like he’d protect his own life. Keep him dreaming and peaceful while Viktor threw himself to the wolves.

As he sat, sleep eluding him, he found himself figuring out how he’d manage it all, if only to keep his mind occupied by something other than the all-consuming fear. As Yuuri’s coach, he had every right to appear on his behalf. It was almost expected, particularly if there were some kind of sensitive injury or personal issue. Yuuri shouldn’t receive any backlash if Viktor was the only one in the spotlight…

But would Yuuri want that?

One of the most bitter realisations – the one that turned Viktor’s blood to ice in his veins and stuttered his heart – was that Yuuri would probably ask Viktor to step down as his coach. Would probably stammer and blush his way through asking. Might even disappear – fly back to Hasetsu and deny Viktor the chance to follow. Send his belongings back to St. Petersburg in boxes. Ignore his calls.

There was no way their relationship could survive this.

Viktor saw his phone flash out of the corner of his eye, resting on the bedside table where he’d left it earlier. He couldn’t quite make out who the message was from, but he could see the time clearly at the top of the screen.

Two in the morning.

Amongst all the fearful thoughts that whirled in Viktor’s mind, he was most worried about keeping Yuuri hydrated. He’d fallen asleep so quickly after the ... events of the evening that Viktor hadn’t had a chance to make sure Yuuri drank anything. It had been hours, and Yuuri was probably painfully dehydrated. He could see that his lips were chapped already, and as he observed them, Yuuri suddenly dragged his lower lip into his mouth, chewing on it lazily as his brow creased. He looked concerned… fearful…

“Viktor…”

Viktor tensed.

Yuuri mumbled again, nose tickling the sensitive skin of Viktor’s stomach as it skimmed across the surface, burying his face and inhaling gently. Viktor gasped, instantly shaken by the thrill that coursed his veins like fire. He could feel the press of Yuuri’s lips, parted slightly in his sleep, now opening and closing and…

“V—Viktor… smells good…” and Yuuri’s voice was soft. _So_ soft. It sent wracking shivers across Viktor’s body, simmering under his skin and causing a blush to flush high on his cheeks.

“Yuuri?” he breathed, scared to make any noise. Scared he might frighten him…

“…what … time?” Yuuri was still burrowing his nose into Viktor’s stomach, his head lifting ever so slightly so that the brush of his hair tickled up towards Viktor’s chest. Viktor held his breath, eyes wide, waiting…

Yuuri’s eyes were open as his head surfaced, bleary with sleep and hardly seeing. Viktor remembered Yuuri’s glasses and quickly glanced around to see if he could find them.

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice sounded clearer now. Aware. He was moving to sit up fully, pushing his torso up with shaking arms and staring up expectantly at Viktor with large, shimmering eyes. They reflected the low light, soft flecks of gold flashing in a way that had Viktor mesmerised.

“Yuuri…” Viktor sighed, feeling an uncomfortable warmth grip at his chest. Yuuri was a vision. Some sort of god made flesh and nestled in his lap. A Yuuri he’d never seen. Half-drunk on sleep and slurring his words. Voice soft. Hair a tangled mess.

The vision soured when Viktor remembered just how fleeting it would be. He was probably seconds away from realisation – even as time slowed around them and Viktor found himself spiralling into the soft bed of Yuuri’s eyes…

He had to commit it all to memory. This was all he could keep. It might be the last time he’d ever see Yuuri like this.

Might be the last time he’d see him at all.

Because he could see clarity edging across Yuuri’s face, widening his eyes and opening his mouth. He was remembering. Realising where he was. What had happened…

What Viktor had _done to him_.

“Viktor… I can’t see…” he whispered, reaching a hand up to lazily rub at one eye. That warmth in Viktor’s chest gripped hard as he marvelled at just how adorable he was. Precious. He almost felt guilty for looking at him while he was like this. While he was so vulnerable…

“Y—Yes, sorry Yuuri. I don’t know where your glasses… ended up…” Viktor searched around the room again frantically and he could feel Yuuri’s eyes following him as he did so, leaning up and out of the bed to rummage across the surface of the bedside table. Now more than ever he was painfully aware of their bodies touching under the sheets. He could feel the soft press of Yuuri’s arm on the inside of his thigh. Could feel his breath wafting over the skin of his stomach. He hated himself for the rush it gave him – hated the way desire pooled and settled in his stomach, threatening to overflow. He couldn’t allow that – not with Yuuri so close and still unsure…

“It’s okay, Viktor,” Yuuri said gently, a hand shifting to rest on his thigh that sent jolts of pleasure rippling straight through him. Viktor gasped and screwed his eyes shut, trying to keep himself calm… trying to think of anything else but the sensation of Yuuri’s touch … trying to keep himself under control as he felt desire pool hot and heavy in his abdomen, slipping dangerously low …

“Viktor… are you alright?” Yuuri’s voice was small. The way it broke had Viktor flinging his eyes open, brow furrowing as he searched Yuuri’s face.

“Of course!” he cried, instinctively reaching for Yuuri’s shoulders, falling into the habit of touching to communicate. He flinched at the last second, recoiling as he remembered that Yuuri might not want to be touched right now. Might not want to be touched by _Viktor_ specifically.

He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he expected, but seeing the tell-tale flash of fear and the following devastation wrung at his heart bitterly. Yuuri’s face fell and his eyes shimmered, brow creasing with concern, mouth slightly open and working to speak…

“Yuuri – Yuuri I’m fine. It’s _you_ I’m worried about…” Viktor didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he awkwardly ran them through his own hair, the itch to reach out and console Yuuri setting his fingers alight.

Yuuri blinked, brow furrowing in confusion. He reached up with one pale hand and ran it through his own hair, staring at the sheets below him. Viktor felt his throat constrict as he realised _this_ was the moment. The moment of realisation. Yuuri would remember everything and Viktor _wasn’t ready_.

Yuuri slowly moved to sit up in the bed, his movement awkward and sloppy, like someone in the throes of a bitter hangover. He rubbed at his eyes and glanced around the room, sheets slipping off his back and pooling around his waist, exposing every inch of his bare chest and _oh_ Viktor knew he was growing hard already. Luckily there were sheets about his own waist as well, and he found himself praying to every god he could think of that Yuuri wouldn’t notice…

But he could see that Yuuri was still distant – eyes scanning the horizon through the window, chewing on his lower lip in a way that made Viktor feel uncomfortably warm. It was still dark, but the city lights that twinkled in the distance cast a dim light about the room, reflecting off Yuuri’s eyes and sending Viktor’s heart into a rapid stutter. After a moment, Yuuri turned back with an unreadable expression, eyes now slightly hidden in the shadow of the room.

Viktor felt his breath catch in his throat as he waited for Yuuri’s response. Where was the yelling? The crying? Wasn’t Yuuri going to run away from him the second he remembered what he’d _done_? Would Yuuri—

“You won’t touch me ever again, will you?” Yuuri eventually whispered, half to himself, the tears all too clear as they glazed over his eyes and pooled in the corners, threatening to slip. Viktor wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe them away. Kiss them away. Make Yuuri forget…

“I was—” and Yuuri’s voice caught in his throat as the tears fell freely, “I was that disgusting.” And before Viktor could say anything, Yuuri was fisting his hands in his eyes and crying. _Sobbing_. His shoulders were shaking and his chest was caving in, hiccupping stuttering noises filling the room as Viktor watched on in horror.

“Yuuri…” he could barely speak around the lump in his own throat. _Disgusting_? What on earth—

“Is that why you’re looking at me like that?” Yuuri interrupted, one hand reaching up to cover his mouth. “Was I really – did I hurt you?” and suddenly Yuuri’s head snapped up, eyes blown wide with manic fear. “Oh God, Viktor,” he scrambled to reach out, arm shaking before it jerked back in fear. “Viktor did I _hurt you_?”

Viktor blinked, seeing Yuuri’s desperate face and unsure how to comprehend exactly what was happening. Yuuri was _worried he’d hurt him_?

“Yuuri, no!” he cried, leaning forward ever so slightly in the bed but making sure to keep his hands by his sides despite how desperately he wanted – _needed –_ to touch. “Of course not! It was all me…” and Viktor felt like his heart was going to burst because Yuuri couldn’t _remember it_. He didn’t even know what Viktor had done.

“You were … we—” Viktor ran another hand through his hair, staring daggers at the sheets below him, deathly afraid to meet Yuuri’s gaze as he felt a blush creep across his own features. “ _I_ hurt you,” he whispered in the end, hoping that was enough to get the message across.

“You – What?” Viktor could hear the shuffling sound of Yuuri moving in the bed, could feel the mattress dip ever so slightly as he came closer. Viktor still refused to meet his gaze, wincing as his heart fluttered painfully in his ribcage. This was it. This was the end. Surely Yuuri would—

There was a soft touch on his cheek.

 _So_ soft.

Viktor was distantly reminded of the touch of sun on skin in the morning.

He glanced up through silver strands of hair, dishevelled and unkempt. Glanced up to see Yuuri watching him worriedly - _fearfully_.

And he was holding his cheek in his hand, thumb tracing feather light paths across the skin there, brow desperately creased with concern.

“You didn’t hurt me, Vitya,” Yuuri said softly.

If he’d thought Yuuri’s touch was like the sun, his words were like a solar flare. Bursting through his chest and setting his heart ablaze. The sensation made him gasp, tears springing into the corner of his eyes once again.

_Vitya._

He’d called him _Vitya._

“I don’t remember much but … from what I do remember…” Yuuri seemed to be smiling – _smiling_! – as he glanced away. “You were very kind to me. Kinder than I deserved.”

Viktor blinked again, his mouth working to try and get the words out, throat feeling thick and choked. Nothing came. It was like Yuuri had reached into his chest and stolen all language from him.

“I’m so _sorry_ Vitya,” Yuuri’s voice broke, throat moving liquidly as he swallowed, hand still against his cheek. If it weren’t for Yuuri’s touch Viktor was sure he’d evaporate. Disappear entirely.

Because he couldn’t believe this was _real_.

How could it be?

“Y—Yuuri…” was all he could manage. The other man was filling his vision, his face close, eyes threatening to swallow him whole. It was all his mind could muster as he tried to make it work. _Begged_ it to keep up and make sense of everything. But Yuuri was still talking, throwing it into a spiralling haze of confusion and fear and _hope_ ….

“You didn’t have to do that for me, but you did anyway,” Yuuri said slowly, tears still falling, his other hand shifting to cradle Viktor’s head in his hands, gently slipping down to touch at his jaw. He was kneeling now, slightly higher, tilting Viktor’s head up to meet his gaze.

“Of course I did,” Viktor said, voice barely a whisper, the words suddenly rushing like a stream. “I’ve wanted to from the moment I first saw you.”

Yuuri blinked in response, eyes widening into glimmering orbs. There was an uncomfortable silence that followed, Viktor’s heart lodging itself firmly in his throat. Yuuri looked shocked. Completely floored. He shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have…

“Vitya…” Yuuri gasped, and before Viktor could react, Yuuri suddenly tugged at his jaw, pulling him closer and pressing a hard kiss to his lips. Viktor let loose a soft noise of surprise, muffled by lips and tongue, eyes flinging wide as Yuuri mouthed at him softly. He could feel the gentle muscles of Yuuri’s lips yield to his own, pushing back in kind as Viktor let his mouth fall open. His mind was blank. Sunken in shock and desire. All hope of hiding his hardness was long gone as the sheets tented in his lap, the hesitation to touch replaced by a desperation as he let himself grip at Yuuri’s arms.

Viktor couldn’t help but think that this was different. _Wildly_ different. Before, Yuuri had been consumed and it made him submissive. Malleable. Every touch had melted him, turning him pliable and soft. Viktor could still remember the visceral the sensation of pressing into Yuuri’s tight heat, velvet walls yielding…

This was something else entirely.

In the brief moment that Viktor let his guard down, Yuuri was on him. All fumbling hands and seeking tongue, craning over Viktor as he lifted himself higher on his knees, forcing Viktor’s back to bow beneath him. As Yuuri slipped his hands down along Viktor’s shoulders, smoothing along the skin and down to his wrists, Viktor let a whine escape into Yuuri’s mouth, eyes blowing wide as Yuuri suddenly pinned his hands to the pillow beside him. He was on top of him now, the sheet that tangled between them the only barrier, though Viktor could feel a hard press against his inner thigh that sent shivers along his skin.

Viktor wondered, distantly, if the drugs hadn’t entirely worn off. This was so different. So _deliciously_ different. He’d been in this position before, of course, but never like this. Never so completely overwhelmed.

And never with someone like Yuuri.

Viktor gripped at the lithe muscles of Yuuri’s arms, pressing hard and letting out a soft sound of protest. If Yuuri was still under the effects of the drugs, he didn’t want him to hurt himself. Didn’t want him to do something he’d regret…

At his touch, Yuuri broke from the kiss, eyes flying open like he’d been shocked awake.

“Vitya?” he asked, breathless, looking down with a furrowed brow. Worried. Still worried. Why was Yuuri still so worried about _him_?

“A—Are you… are you alright, Yuuri?” Viktor gasped, instinctively rubbing circles with his thumbs into the skin of Yuuri’s upper arms, distantly admiring just how _smooth_ they felt, with a hardness just under the surface that sent a thrill through his chest.

“Are you?” Yuuri breathed, eyes darting across Viktor’s face like he was searching for something. “I mean, is this … okay?”

Viktor blinked, trying to compute what Yuuri was asking. “O—Of course, Yuuri, but what do you—mmh!” but before he could finish, Yuuri’s lips were on his again, hungrily clamouring for entrance, tongue darting out to slip its way into Viktor’s mouth, licking down and over his own tongue in a dance where Viktor didn’t know the steps. It was addictive. Exhilarating.

And with a jolt he realised that Yuuri had managed to grip both of his wrists in one hand, the other roaming lazily down his chest, thumb skimming across the hard peak of his nipple. Viktor keened into Yuuri’s mouth, back arching up on its own to press harder into the touch, but Yuuri was restless. Urgent. His hand slipped along his ribs, tucking itself under Viktor’s back, dipping lower and…

“Nnh ... Yuuri!” Viktor managed to gasp for air, yanking himself out of the kiss, an unnerving tremor working its way along his back and down between his legs as desire simmered below the surface of his skin. Did Yuuri really want _that_? Was he really—

“Viktor, please,” Yuuri all but growled, ducking his head to pepper kisses under his jaw, teeth dragging along the skin _just so_ and Viktor could feel himself unravelling. It was too much. Too much all at once. Surely Yuuri was still under the influence – surely this wasn’t what he _wanted_. After everything Viktor had done to him… after the words he’d said…

“I have to thank you, Vitya,” Yuuri hummed into the pulse point of Viktor’s throat. “I have to show you. Please. Please let me show you,” and now his tongue was lapping at his skin, his lips mouthing nonsense, closing around his throat as he _sucked…_

 _“_ Ah! Yuuri… are you—” the words cut off as Viktor inhaled sharply through his teeth, the pleasure and pain of Yuuri’s sucking and biting sending his mind reeling into static. Glorious. Delicious. It was so good he couldn’t _think_.

“I’ve wanted this, too,” Yuuri breathed into his neck, his other hand dipping under Viktor’s thigh, lifting it with ease and pressing it higher, allowing him to twist his wrist and dip towards Viktor’s throbbing cock. It strained high, pressing against his abdomen, the thrill of Yuuri _wanting_ him - _taking_ him – causing it to twitch and grow. Yuuri’s fingers were impossibly soft, running gently trails along his length that had him gasping for air and moaning.

“I’ve wanted it for so long Vitya, I can’t—” and suddenly Yuuri was palming lower, sliding between Viktor’s legs and—

“Ah! No!” Viktor writhed as Yuuri teased at his entrance, back arching and hips grinding down on the touch, his breath coming in short desperate gasps. Yuuri’s fingers paused, head rising as he looked at Viktor worriedly.

“You don’t want this, do you?” and his face, oh _god_. It was crestfallen. Viktor shook his head desperately, trying to catch his breath as he worked his throat, swallowing thickly.

“Yuuri, please, I’m so confused,” he struggled against Yuuri’s grip but the fingers there wouldn’t budge, and the thought of being so completely restrained sent another thrill rushing low in his abdomen. He was so hard it was almost painful.

“Aren’t you disgusted with _me_?” Viktor breathed, brow furrowing as he tried to make Yuuri understand. Didn’t he _remember_? Couldn’t he still feel how rough Viktor had been with him? How –

“What?” Yuuri sat up, voice incredulous. “Why?”

“B—Because,” Viktor squirmed again, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Because of what I did. I took advantage of you and I…” his words trailed off, heart wringing itself painfully in his chest.

“Oh, Vitya,” Yuuri said softly, his hand now resting on his inner thigh and rubbing softly. Comfortingly. And it was _such_ a comfort. Viktor felt like he was melting beneath it. Melting at this side of Yuuri he’d hardly ever seen – caring. Protective.

“You could never take advantage of me,” his hand suddenly left his thigh, slipping up to Viktor’s chin and smoothing a caress across the skin there. “Even if I were drugged out of my mind, I’d still want you. _Only_ you.”

Viktor sucked in a breath, certain his heart was beating far too fast to be healthy. He could feel it thrumming against his ribcage like birds’ wings because he _knew_ the words that Yuuri was saying but he just _couldn’t believe them_.

“No, you can’t be sober …” he all but whispered, eyes searching Yuuri’s face and finding nothing but earnest kindness. Adoration. “Are you still high? Do you want me to ring the doctor?”

But Yuuri was laughing. Chuckling softly and bending down to kiss Viktor’s cheek.

“Is it really so hard to believe I’d want you, Vitya?” his breath tickling across Viktor’s skin and he felt his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, rocking his head to the side instinctively. Viktor would have to have a firm talk with Yuuri about just what that nickname did to him because it _wasn’t fair_.

“You said you’ve wanted me from the first, but I’m sure I’ve wanted you for longer,” his voice was low now. Gravelly. It did things to Viktor’s heart that felt all too sinful.

“I’ve wanted every piece of you. I’ve wanted to feel you stretch me open so wide I can hardly breathe. I’ve wanted to open you up in return. I’ve wanted to taste you. I’ve wanted your lips and your throat and your thighs and your hips. Everything. And you gave to me so fully – you helped me when no one else could. Vitya, won’t you let me show you…” and his teeth were skimming the shell of Viktor’s ear and he couldn’t help the high, broken whine that fell from his lips.

Too much.

It was all too much.

“Y—Yes…” he breathed, eyes falling closed as he let his head fall limp to the side, exposing his throat and offering himself to Yuuri’s hungry kisses. His roving tongue and dragging teeth. And before he could try and doubt anymore, he could feel the pads of Yuuri’s fingers at the sensitive skin around his thighs. Kneading themselves into the swell of Viktor’s ass. Dipping low and teasing at his entrance.

“Vitya,” Yuuri hummed directly into his ear, lips grazing the skin there before his tongue traced the soft cartilage. It was enough to drive Viktor insane. He moaned softly, hands gripping and tensing as they lay, still pinned under Yuuri’s grip because he wanted to _touch_. Wanted to reciprocate. He could feel the press of Yuuri’s own hardness against his thigh and it made his mouth water.

“Please let me thank you,” Yuuri’s voice was sinfully low, and the sound of it had Viktor’s thighs falling open all on their own, Yuuri’s touch against his entrance growing more insistent.

But it was suddenly gone, the sensation leaving Viktor feeling empty despite hardly having felt Yuuri enter him at all. As his eyes flew open, another moan of protest dragging from his throat, he caught sight of Yuuri reaching for a bottle. _The_ bottle. And Viktor’s heart leapt in his chest as disastrous excitement threatened to tear him to pieces.

He watched on, mesmerised, as Yuuri let the lube dribble across his fingers, thumb rubbing at it to warm it, and Viktor realised he was allowed a chance to see Yuuri completely. To take in the way his eyes were impossibly dark in the low light of the room, glancing down at Viktor with a predatory look, tongue darting out to lick at his lips.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whined, feeling his hips roll on their own, his legs spreading embarrassingly wide, revealing everything. And he could see the way that Yuuri’s eyes darted down to take in the sight. Hungry. Like he was claiming him already before he’d even begun.

“Please,” Viktor all but breathed, rocking his hips again and feeling a thrill at the way Yuuri’s expression darkened. It was delicious. Decadent. Against some kind of law. It was everything he’d seen on the ice and more. So markedly Eros – confident and sexual and _god he needed him, he needed—_

“Patience, Vitya,” Yuuri said with a flinty look in his eyes. That same distance he’d seen earlier – the heart-aching sadness and pensiveness as Yuuri had stared out the window – returned then. He was still looking down at Viktor with that hungry expression but his eyes – his eyes were full of sadness. Longing. Fear. Remorse.

“I want you to remember this night forever,” he said simply, testing his fingers and watching the lube stretch and run.

He glanced down to Viktor with absolute coldness.

“I want you to remember how I feel inside you, so that I’m still with you even when you leave me.”

Viktor’s eyes flew wide. “Wh—What? Yuuri—Ah!” but before he could reply, Yuuri’s slender finger was pressing into him, pushing easily past the ring of muscle, the warm lube slicking the way. The sensation was euphoric – causing Viktor’s muscles to tense and bunch around the delicious pressure of being stretched. His back bowed and arched, hips rocking down onto the touch with abandon. He couldn’t help but fist his hands in the pillow beside him, head rolling back as he let loose a long, high pitched whine. Through heavy lashes, Viktor could see Yuuri crouched over him, eyes flashing as he watched him and it was enough to unravel him completely. Yuuri watching him darkly, taking in every expression, every movement, and _licking his lips_ like he was trying to consume it all.

Without warning, Yuuri pressed another finger in alongside the first, Viktor’s mind reeling into a blinding haze of pleasure, all reason and thought spiralling down to focus on those two fingers, liquidly stretching and scissoring and kneading at his spasming muscles. There was so much he _should_ be thinking about. Yuuri. Yuuri needed water. Needed to know… something… what did he need to know?

“Don’t hold back, Vitya,” Yuuri said softly, voice a low rumble. Viktor distantly realised he’d had a fist shoved in his mouth to try and stem the tide of words and lewd noises that threatened to overflow. He glanced back to Yuuri and _god_. It was too much. Yuuri’s cheeks were flushed, mouth slightly parted as he breathed heavily, eyes so dark they were like a void, swirling with desire, pupils blown wide.

“Let me hear you,” Yuuri growled, and there was a timbre to his voice that drove Viktor wild. It was steely. Commanding. It made Viktor’s stomach flip and tense with delicious fear. What would happen if he refused? How would Yuuri react?

Because Viktor could see he was desperate. Bitterly so. There was still a softness to his face – a certain tenderness that told Viktor he was safe no matter what. But there was also a mouth-watering sense of danger. Of Yuuri’s hold over him and Yuuri’s _desire.._.

He had to tell him…

But Yuuri curled his fingers and Viktor’s hold on language was all but gone.

How did Yuuri _know_? How did he know where to touch him to unstitch him so completely? It was like his whole being had turned to liquid, melting and soaking into the sheets beneath him Because Yuuri’s fingers were pressing against his prostate _just so_ andViktor couldn’t help the slurring Russian come English that spilled from his lips, eyes rolling back as he craned his neck, body twisting all on its own.

He felt like fabric, teased and unthreaded by Yuuri’s fingers, tangled strings of himself expertly pulled loose and fisted in Yuuri’s hands. He knew in that moment that whatever Yuuri asked of him, he’d do. He’d do it and he’d _love it_. He wanted to please Yuuri more than breathing.

He hardly had any concept of time, because it felt like both eons and seconds since Yuuri had entered him and now he was pressing a third finger in, sending Viktor gasping and keening and desperately trying to keep up. His muscles spasmed and Yuuri let loose a pleased hum of approval, licking his lips as he watched Viktor suck him in. Viktor felt the furious blush flush across his ears and down his throat. He felt so exposed. So wanton and on display. But Yuuri was taking it all in like he were a feast – a prize. It made Viktor’s stomach quiver and the desire rush heavy through his already weeping cock. Too much. So much. Not _enough_.

He never wanted Yuuri to take his eyes off him.

“P—Please…” he managed, tears springing to his eyes as the desperation gripped him hard. A hand shifting instinctively to his own cock, touching the tip and sending a spasm of pleasure rippling through him. “More.”

“Does it feel good, Vitya?” Yuuri hummed, leaning over him as his fingers worked – agonisingly slow and deliciously torturous. The stretch was pure ecstasy. Like his whole body was being kneaded and spun under Yuuri’s touch. He never wanted it to end. He wanted _more_.

“Mm! Y—yes,” Viktor groaned, back arching again as he tried to push his hips lower. Tried to impale himself on those fingers and feel them deeper. But Yuuri let out a _tsk_ of disapproval and Viktor felt his heart leap into his throat. He’d displeased him. He’d _displeased him_ …

“Patience,” he crooned, suddenly pulling his fingers free with an embarrassingly lewd noise, wet and sucking, that had Viktor burying his head in the pillow. That sound had come from _him_. It was so loud it echoed through the room, and Yuuri hummed a sinful laugh in response.

“You don’t want to let me go,” he all but giggled, suddenly rising and craning up to kiss at Viktor’s neck, tucking his nose into the hollow of his throat, mouthing at the hot skin in a way that had Viktor’s eyes rolling. He could feel his entrance twitching and aching to be filled, still liquid and slick from the lube, but his words wouldn’t come. Everything was on fire because Yuuri was dancing circles with his tongue around the shell of his ear and it was like he knew that place never failed to unravel him. To have him mumbling Russian like he’d lost his mind.

But before he could come undone, Yuuri’s hands were suddenly on his hips, gripping hard enough to leave bruises. Viktor yelped in an embarrassingly high voice, the world flipping on its head as Yuuri spun him over, strong arms effortlessly rolling him onto his front, tilting his hips _just so_ and oh. _Oh._ Viktor was face down in the pillow with his ass in the air, Yuuri’s hands on the sensitive backs of his thighs, tracing gentle patterns.

He could see _everything_.

“Mmh… ah… Y—Yuuri,” Viktor mumbled, fisting his hands in the pillow once again, feeling his back arch into the touch. He must look positively lewd, rocking his hips and stretching his legs open, displaying himself completely because he wanted Yuuri to claim him. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted—

“Ah!” His head snapped up, eyes flying wide because there was a wet, hard press against his twitching hole and a soft breath …

Yuuri’s tongue.

Oh _god Yuuri’s tongue was inside him and licking and his lips were closing around him and sucking and—_

 _“_ Блин ( _blin_ ) … ah… nnh!” Viktor was coming apart at the seams. The sensation was so visceral he could feel every flick of Yuuri’s tongue through his entire being. He couldn’t help the way his hips bucked and rocked into the wet heat, fucking himself back onto Yuuri’s tongue and letting his mouth run with every word in every language.

By the time Yuuri added fingers in alongside his tongue, Viktor was a complete mess. He was all but folded in half, shoving his ass up as hard and high as he could, scrambling for purchase on the sheets as he pressed his face into the mattress. For every moan and gasp and cry he let loose, Yuuri crooned and hummed and rubbed at his skin, coming up for air every so often to whisper and groan praises that dripped like honey. That melted in his ears.

He managed to register the searing desire tearing at him, flooding his veins and forcing clarity into his mind. He needed more. He _had to have more_. Yuuri was dragging everything out and destroying him completely and it was _tearing him to pieces_.

“Yuuri—Fuck! Please – дерьмо ( _der’mo_ )! Put it in already …” he tried to control his voice – to pour all the desperation and authority into it that he could muster, but Yuuri’s hums and the maddening timbre of his laugh told him everything he needed to know.

Yuuri was enjoying this and _he_ was in charge.

“I want you good and ready, Vitya, I’m not going to hold back,” he growled, mouth still around his entrance, the vibrations of his voice thrilling through him with every word. Viktor shivered and whined, gasping for air as he rocked back.

“I’m … nnh… I’m ready, please,” his voice was so broken and needy already, high pitched and breathy. He briefly felt a euphoric sensation of being _feminine_. And Yuuri seemed to notice, slipping his fingers away from Viktor’s entrance and gliding them along Viktor’s sides until they came back to his nipples.

“You are, aren’t you?” Yuuri’s voice rumbled, tongue darting out to taste again and flicking in time with his fingers, teasing and twisting at his nipples and laughing softly as Viktor cried out, wailing Yuuri’s name over and over into the sheets as he squirmed.

“You’re practically _begging_ me with your body, Vitya, you should see it,” and Viktor let loose a lewd, broken moan, shaking his head in the sheets and trying to ignore it but he could _hear it_. He was twitching and spasming and he could feel Yuuri’s breath on the sensitive skin as he watched and _god, god, god_.

“Don’t forget this, Vitya,” Yuuri said softly, and suddenly he could feel the hard press of something hot and wet at his gaping hole and it had him scrambling for purchase on the sheets, rocking his hips back so hard and so fast he thought he’d break and…

“Ah! Vitya… mmh…” Yuuri gasped as Viktor took him in, unable to stop himself, desperate to feel full and come apart even more. His orgasm was so close – he could feel it dancing along the edges of his skin, threatening to plummet him into spiralling insanity, to complete the unravelling and leave him ruined. He wanted to cum with Yuuri inside him. He wanted to show him how full he was, how much he could take, how much he _wanted_ …

“やばい ( _yabai_ ), Vitya, you feel so good… I can’t… “ and there was a long low groan as Yuuri pushed deeper, the stretch so glorious it had Viktor choking on a sob and flinging his head back, eyes blown impossibly wide, back arching until he felt a simmering pain in his waist, body contorting as Yuuri pushed and pushed and pushed…

“すごい ( _sugoi_ ),” Yuuri’s Japanese sent flutters through Viktor’s stuttering heart, eyes rolling back as he felt Yuuri fill him completely, thighs touching the swell of his ass as he wholly sheathed himself. He could feel Yuuri encasing him, folding over him and slipping his arms about Viktor’s chest. All foreplay forgotten. Melted into this one moment, and Viktor was reminded of what it felt like to do the same to Yuuri not hours before, what it felt like to hold him and feel him tense around him and know they were complete. That they _fit perfectly._ Like everything in the world suddenly righted and nothing could harm them.

“Don’t … forget this… Vitya,” Yuuri breathed, his lips moving ever so slightly across the skin of Viktor’s back, mouthing gentle kisses as Viktor shivered in response.

How could he ever forget this?

And suddenly through the clarity of the release that was so close it _hurt_ , Viktor remembered what he had to do. What he had to say.

“I won’t leave you, Yuuri,” he gasped, rocking his hips back to try and _tell him_. To show him just how much he needed him – like this, forever. If he had to come home to an empty bed ever again, he knew he’d fall apart.

“I’d never leave you, золосте ( _zoloste_ )” he whispered, Yuuri’s silence almost deafening in the stillness of their bodies wrapped around each other, of Viktor’s muscles relaxing and liquidly pulling Yuuri in further. He could feel Yuuri’s breath on his skin – feather-light and slightly shallow like he was trying to hold it.

“Never?” Yuuri all but breathed, voice slightly broken, all trace of control destroyed. He sounded terrified. Disbelieving. His touch at Viktor’s sides was hesitant, shaking ever so slightly.

“Never,” and Viktor’s voice found its strength. Rang out through the room, resonant and forceful. He had to make sure Yuuri _knew ..._

There was another choked sob, Yuuri burying his face in the dip in Viktor’s back, teeth grazing the skin before biting down. _Hard._ And Viktor cried out Yuuri’s name, long and high and broken as Yuuri started moving. Pumping into him slowly at first, dragging himself in and out in a way that had Viktor gasping and whining. His hips rocked back in time, feeling his ass grind itself up into Yuuri’s thighs and stomach over and over until Yuuri moaned long and low, picking up the pace.

It was breath-taking. Exhilarating. _Perfection_. He could feel every inch of Yuuri’s cock inside him, hitting him deep enough for Viktor to see stars. They flashed across his vision with every thrust, hiccupped sobs and desperate wails dripping from his lips until he was an incoherent mess.

He could hardly hold himself upright, his arms were shaking so much, and Yuuri seemed to notice, gripping hard at the skin about his waist and chest, holding him as he snapped his hips and _fucked him hard_. _God_ , it was so _hard_ and _rough_ and _glorious_ that the orgasm already had Viktor in its grip, ripping through him fast as lightning, thick white ropes of cum shooting across the sheets and painting Yuuri’s arms, Viktor’s head snapping back and mouth hanging loose as he gasped for air.

It was too much. _Too much_ , and Yuuri was still fucking him through the orgasm, the liquid smack of their hips and the sound of Yuuri’s cock slipping in and out of him so _easily_ filling the room. It was so lewd and loud it had Viktor spinning, his head rolling back until suddenly he felt Yuuri’s shoulder. He was hugging him upright, completely supporting him and embracing him like a lifeline.

Viktor’s back arched between them as Yuuri gasped his name over and over. “Vitya, Vitya… Vitya… nnh!” and Viktor could feel the hot, fluid sensation of Yuuri’s cum inside him, filling him so completely he felt he might burst with happiness.

“God, Vitya… God…” and Yuuri was encasing him completely, rocking him slowly and gasping for air. Viktor couldn’t do anything but lie there, his weight falling on Yuuri completely as the slow waves of the orgasm tapered off into bliss. _Desperate bliss._

Because maybe, just maybe, Yuuri felt the same. Maybe they could have this forever, despite the fear and doubt. Despite the events of the night and the guilt that seemed to ebb itself out of Viktor’s mind with every rush of blood in the aftermath.

“N—Never… leave you…” he managed to whisper, eyes falling closed, the world slipping in and out of reach. He was so complete. So full. So _happy_ he could drift into sleep forever like this. In Yuuri’s arms.

“I love you, Vitya,” Yuuri moaned, the wet sound of tears thick in his voice but Viktor couldn’t help but smile. His heart was too full. Fit to bursting. On fire.

“I love you, too,” he gasped, feeling himself sink lower in Yuuri’s grip, Yuuri’s arms tightening as he lowered them slowly into the bed. It was like they were melting together, every bit as perfect as the night before if not _more so_.

He come down was smooth and soft as butter, Yuuri mouthing soft kisses across Viktor’s back, Viktor letting himself meld with Yuuri’s body.

Eventually, Viktor felt Yuuri shift inside him as he moved, pulling out slowly as Viktor hissed and moaned, feeling all of his muscles relax at once, the ache of feeling empty taking precedence. If he weren’t so exhausted, he would have asked Yuuri for another round, his need was so great. But Yuuri was embracing him and spooning him so completely he figured this was _almost_ enough.

“You’re not s—skating tomorrow,” Viktor said softly, trying to put as much authority into his voice as he could muster, though hearing himself he found he just sounded weak. Yuuri hummed a laugh against his neck as he peppered feather-light kisses along his hairline. Across his shoulders. Under his jaw.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” he breathed, and Viktor felt a pang of fear stab its way across his heart. Surely, he couldn’t be _serious_?

“Yuuri, you _can’t_ ,” he whined, trying to shift to face him, but Yuuri’s grip was strong around his waist.

“I _can_ ,” he said simply.

“Yuuri, please. I’m begging you,” Viktor struggled in Yuuri’s arms again, reaching back to push the other man away and turn to face him, pouting ever so slightly in his anger. “You’ll have your chance at every other competition. No one would judge you for withdrawing after what happened…”

Yuuri furrowed his brow, glancing away past Viktor’s head at the window behind them. He seemed to be considering it, and Viktor offered him a small smile to try and convince him.

“Please, золосте ( _zoloste_ ). For me.”

Yuuri’s eyes snapped back to Viktor’s in an instant, large brown orbs growing wider as he seemed to take the words in. Seemed to melt at the sounds, brow creasing, eyes shimmering.

“That’s not fair,” he said with a sad smile. “I can’t say no to you.”

“And I am your coach, after all,” Viktor said sternly, trying to keep his face as serious as he could despite the smile that threatened to burst. Yuuri huffed a laugh, watching Viktor warmly as his eyes began to droop. Viktor watched on, entranced, as the dark lashes hung low, eyes melting into a sleepy contentedness that took his breath away.

“Alright,” he said softly, reaching for Viktor’s hand that was curled between them. He took him by the fingers gently, running his thumb across the knuckles, bringing it up to his lips and placing a reverent kiss there. Viktor’s heart thrummed and sang, tears welling in his eyes and a bright smile spreading his mouth into a grin. He felt so stupid. So ridiculous. So _overjoyed_ that it _hurt_.

“Thank you,” Yuuri whispered, kissing Viktor’s knuckles again, eyes closed, and as Viktor watched him he could see Yuuri’s face softening into sleep already. He didn’t even bother to check the time, he was sure it was almost morning. At least they could afford to sleep in a little. He’d call Yakov when they woke and deal with the storm to follow. 

And somehow, as he watched Yuuri fall asleep with Viktor’s hand still close to his lips, peaceful and safe and warm, Viktor knew he could weather it. Knew it would be nothing if Yuuri were there.

And Yuuri _would_ be there. He _wanted him_. They wanted each other. They…

They _loved_ each other.

And that was enough. More than enough.

* * *

Viktor’s phone lit up in the still, dark hours of the early morning, Yakov’s name flashing on screen.

**> They’ve caught him. Taken into custody.**

Though Viktor and Yuuri were blissfully unaware for many more hours into the morning. They missed calls and knocks at the door. Missed the headlines and interviews and the morning news. At some point Viktor had called Yakov, though Yuuri was too far gone, steeped in a hot bath, to notice. He’d announced Yuuri’s withdrawal, as well. They’d be making statements at the press conference that evening. They wouldn’t make an appearance at the banquet.

And as the man was whisked away into a cold cell, Yuuri and Viktor watched Yurio’s free program in each other’s arms, blissfully unaware of the hell that awaited the man in prison. Blissfully unaware of how strange and twisted fate could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Pterodactyl screeching*
> 
> IT FEELS GOOD TO HAVE CLOSURE, I'M JUST SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG.
> 
> I needed to end it somehow, and I needed to end it this way. switch!Viktuuri gives me so much damn life and it just felt _right_ to have them come apart for each other like this. 
> 
> And can I just offer the biggest, fattest GRATITUDE to all of you who commented and subbed and kudos'd and just supported in general. I've been completely high off all of the support, it blew me away. Thank you thank you thank you, this is not the end of Min's Smutty endeavours, I can assure you!
> 
> Also, if you enjoyed this fic, please check out my other one [ here ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19301698?show_comments=true&view_full_work=true). Symphony is my baby and I hope to be writing about my musical boys for a long time to come. It's soft and a slow burn multi-chap, but you can expect the smut to be every bit as ridiculous as this fic, I promise~ I won't be able to help myself! WOOO I CAN'T WAIT TO GO TO HELL. 
> 
> Also please find me on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/scribblingmin) or [ tumblr ](https://min-minn.tumblr.com/) if you want to keep up to date with my bullshit. I occasionally post art, but its mainly a place for me to just scream into the void and keyboard smash in DMs and asks with fellow stans, so don't be shy to join the fun. WE HAVE TO FEED OURSELVES WHILE WE WAIT FOR ICE ADO SOMEHOW.
> 
> Much sweaty, we-stan-idiot-boys love,
> 
> \- Min
> 
> **Translations (my Russian is TRASH I'M SO SORRY):**
> 
> Блин - (blin) – damn it
> 
> дерьмо - (der’mo) – shit
> 
> やばい - (yabai) – crap
> 
> すごい - (sugoi) – amazing/ incredible
> 
> золосте - (zoloste) – my gold/ my treasure


End file.
